The miss-Adventures of the Magical Scarlet Pimpernel
by Billybob - csagun36
Summary: another in a series of Hollywood rewrites, where respectful credit is given where needed. This is one of my favorites, that shouldn't disapear (more details within)
1. Chapter 1

HP story; **the miss-Adventures of the Magical Scarlet Pimpernel**

Based on a short HP story rated K - - as crafted by Elyse3 at fan-fiction dot com called; **The Scarlet Pimpernel** \- - First published: 09-14-07 possible completion date: 11-04-08

This will be yet another in a long-line of Hollywood remakes by Billybob-csagun36

A/N: this was one of only two; all-time favorite Percy centered stories. It was first published in 2007 and I reread it several time a year. I recently went back to send yet another thank you note to the original author only to discover that he/she (elyse3) was gone and the story pulled. Words cannot describe my disappointment.

Although clearly dated, (in plot) the story itself was amazing - and if anyone out there knows who Elyse3 is; please send Him/her my thanks for a really good read. (All attempts to find the original Elyse3 story on the internet failed) It is a sad commentary on our times that so many fan-fiction stories and their authors have disappeared. However; that the original short story has disappeared - - - in itself did not prevent me from engaging in a favorite pastime of mine, namely: tweaking a good story and embellishing it to make it better (or worse)

 **Be warned, this is intended as a respectful rewrite! But large sections have been changed to fit my fancy!**

Billybob opening rant:

My HP world view was forever tainted on the Eighth of February, 2014; when an announcement was made by JK Rowling concerning the epilog pairing of Ron and Hermione, an announcement which has been for the most part universally ignored by the fan base. In published statements both JKR and the actress Emma Watson, who played Hermione Granger, 'both' believe that Ron would have been a poor fit for Hermione as a life mate; that they would have had marital problems. They both voiced the view that if they had their druthers ...Potter (the Hero) should have rode off into the sunset with Granger (the Heroine). Even JKR admitted recently that if she could redo her series Harry would have ended-up with Hermione. My point is that I believe that Harry and Hermione would have been an even worse pairing.

Few can argue that JK Rowling has 'any skill' in writing a believable romance. After all; the primary target audience for her book series was twelve year old's, a group not yet cursed with the horrors of going through puberty. JKR was writing an adventure yarn about three 'friends' fighting evil and romance had nothing to do with it. In the first three books, sex was strictly limited to identifying gender… however all that changed in book four. During that book the prospect of teenage romance came into play as the main characters turned fourteen. Under pressure from her publisher (I assume) JKR started toying with the idea of a romantic connection between Hermione and one of the boys.

That JKR openly admits that the Ron/Hermione ship was not done for plot reasons is backed up by the fact that JK Rowling had three additional books to write a believable- _**love story**_ -between either Ron and Hermione as well as Harry and Ginny. However during her news conference of February 8th 2014, she announced her utter failure to create a binding romance between either couple.

This story gives Rowling's her alternate ending; as a sub-plot - but with a twist.

Informative note: _**The Scarlet Pimpernel**_ was a stage play and adventure novel first-penned by Emma Orczy in 1905. The story is set during the ' **Reign of Terror** ' following the start of the French Revolution. The title character, Sir Percy Blakeney, a wealthy English fop who transforms into a formidable swordsman and a quick-thinking escape artist, represents the original "hero with a secret identity" that was a precursor to subsequent literary creations such as Don Diego de la Vega (Zorro) and Bruce Wayne (Batman).

Opening at the New Theatre in London's West End on 5 January 1905, the drama became a favorite of British audiences, eventually playing more than 2,000 performances and becoming one of the most popular shows ever staged in Britain. In 1997 a Broadway musical opened under the same name and was composed by Frank Wildhorn with the book (script) written by Nan Knighton, the production starred Douglas Sills as Sir Percy Blakeney, Christine Andreas as Marguerite Blakeney, with Terrence Mann playing Citizen Chauvelin. Several motion pictures have also been made of Sir Percy Blakeney, adventures.

 **Disclaimers:** as already stated - _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ was originally written by Baroness Orczy and - 'any and all' - copyrights belongs to her descendants, I use it because I love it, and I think it fits almost perfectly into the world of Harry Potter. **Traditional Disclaimer:** I'm not the author of the Happy Potter books, and the only profit I seek is the amusement of my _**few**_ internet readers. JKR owns everything else.

I am admittedly not even a remotely trained writer; I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There will be grammar and writing format errors in this 'tale' that will turn many stomachs. Honestly-people there is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish.

Again; you have been **warned**! - so - "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"

*** The lights in the theater fade and we begin - - *****

Part 1

Chapters; 1 – 2 - 3

888888

Percy Weasley didn't just _like_ paperwork. He _enjoyed_ it. However, he was not quite sure he liked or even enjoyed this _new_ paperwork.

"Why would you entrust such a task to me, Madame Undersecretary?" Percy asked, pouring over the genealogy charts and questionnaires. He felt a vague sense of unease and moved his shoulders back to loosen the tension in his back. It didn't help.

Pius Thicknesse remained dead-pan, whereas Dolores Umbridge smiled (in a rather reptilian fashion, Percy thought, though he would never speak something so disrespectful aloud) and pushed over another stack. In a syrupy sweet voice she said, "Naturally, it had to be you; Weasley! We would _never_ entrust such a _vital_ task to anyone less talented."

Percy puffed up with pride. "Ah, well…."

"In fact, I think we ought to make you a very junior; _special_ _Assistant_ to the Minister himself."

"Yes, knock off the 'junior' for Weasley," Pius Thicknesse, Minister of Magic strongly suggested, a bit vaguely, pushing his streaked hair away from his high forehead. "The thing is, I'm not really a good burrocrat… the talents that earned me my position laid in a different area. Both of my predecessors greatly depended on you to keep the machinery of government running smoothly. So you will be my red-tape cutter. Fudge was just as bad a burrocrat as I am… his talents, in particular were primarily political."

Percy was secretly thrilled that he was no longer known as 'Weatherby', despite the very rude owls attached to "Norwegian fertilizer samples" that his brothers still sent him occasionally. But the thought that he, Percy Weasley, at twenty, would be placed in such a position of authority, be given such a vital task! No one so young had ever risen so quickly through the ranks of the Ministry. Percy felt so swollen with pride it was quite a wonder his feet were still on the ground.

"Why, Minister, I-"

"Shush, shush, shush!" Dolores said, smiling so widely it was almost grotesque. "No need to thank us for recognizing your dedication to the Ministry of Magic. It is always a happy event when a pureblood realizes their true place and position. Now, it comes with a pay raise and a very nice new office with an enchanted window." She waved her stubby wand in her equally stubby fingers, and a piece of pink paper rose up, folded itself into a- 'paper airplane' -and hovered over the desk. "This will take you to your new office on the executive floor, Weasley. Can we, perhaps, trust you to take on this 'teensy-weensy' task of all this paperwork? We need it all done in time for the hearings. Can we trust you to make sure no nasty, horrid person will be telling lies to our ministry?"

There was something very wrong. Percy could feel it. It was an increase of the tension he'd felt for the past few months, an increase in the ache between his shoulder-bones, an increase in the chill, metallic air.

' _Blasted Dementor's_ ,' he thought, resolutely scooping up all the charts.

"Of course," he said, not showing the unease he tried to shove out of his mind. He was Percy Weasley, keen (well… overly-keen), ambitious, intelligent and eminently capable. He was good at paperwork and he reveled in the inner workings of bureaucracy. He liked his work more than anything else. He was detail-oriented, could spot inaccuracies with ease, he could nit-pick so well it would put even the most determined of editors to shame. That was why he had this job. That was why he _had_ to do this.

"I am so pleased!" chirruped Dolores. "Now, why don't you see if you can check these thoroughly before lunch? And you might take time this evening to upgrade your wardrobe, no-more off the rack for you… after-all; you can certainly afford it with the substantial increase in your pay-bucket … come by my office later and I'll give you the name of a spot-on tailor. Here -" she said while presenting him with a stack of books and a set of dusty tapestries "- this is everything you'll need. Now, let us do hope we can have the trials in time for everyone to go home for a bit of shopping and a proper dinner?"

"Of course," Percy said, with great dignity. He waved his wand at all the books and they followed after him to the office not more than ten feet away from the Minister's. He tried, with much difficulty, to get rid of his unease in thoughts of his new office (with his own, magical window!) but the brief daydreams were hollow and the new office looked very much like his old one- just bigger, with nicer furniture, and of course **a window**. He did have a leather swivel chair now, though. Percy rather liked  his leather swivel chair.

The window wasn't much good; it was raining just outside the glass. The weather was always bleak – these days. The Magical Maintenance Department hated the new Minister (why the Minister never listened to Percy's warnings about discontent among the Ministry personnel … Percy never knew). He flicked his wand at the ceiling, where a large candelabra flicked on, bathing the office in what felt like sunshine.

 _That_ was nice at least (as was the very comfortable swivel chair) and Percy managed to convince himself that he was comfortable as he spread out the charts and the tapestries and the books, as he flipped through the questionnaires and marked up the paperwork. It was the work Percy liked best. He enjoyed fact checking, he enjoyed working on details. Research had always been one of his major-strengths and minute details a constant joy. This was a comparatively easy task and at the same time extremely enjoyable. Percy liked piecing together bits and pieces to make a whole, taking facts and adding them together to create a new understanding of the magical world.

The unease crept up upon him again and Percy flung himself into the last of the work, finishing well before lunch. He tried not to be disturbed by the names of the witches and wizards on the questionnaires and the charts – in fact; he knew a fair few of them. This one was a friend of his fathers, that one was a distant cousin-by-marriage, this one was a student he had talked to when he, Percy, had been Head Boy, that one was… his ex-girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater.

Percy looked blankly down at the questionnaire, with Penny's scrupulously neat writing. Mother, worked for the British Foreign Office at Whitehall as a _diplomatic liaison_ to the Muggle French Embassy, ;  Father, owner of a rare books store in Muggle London, which he also ran; and finally a Brother, a squib; worked as an Anglican priest in Kent. Yes, all correct. But then it accrued to him - - All were Muggles except for Penny and she a Muggleborn, he thought uneasily, she was being condemned to Azkaban for the 'crime' of being without any magical ancestors. Under the new Law they were guilty as soon as they walked through the doors to the courtroom. Could he really send Penny to Azkaban?

Percy neatly stacked all the charts and corrections to the side, intending to think more deeply on the subject before he was interrupted by another sudden thought. He had been uneasy earlier because this _must_ have been someone else's job before him. What had happened to them? He was reasonably sure Dolores's previous assistant had checked these same charts, but Percy decided to look it up regardless (which, he thought, a bit smugly, was the reason he was scarcely twenty-one and Assistant to the Minister). After making a mental note to suggest rosters that automatically changed, pulled a roster of ministry employees from his desk drawer and scanned it. He tapped his wand onto the name of Dolores's personal assistant ('Martha Austen') and felt enormously pleased with himself for thinking up a rooster that listed all official duties.

Ah, he had been right.

She- _**had**_ _-_ been in charge of fact-checking for the Muggleborn inquisitions.

Austen was a good name, a respectable, pure-blooded name, but, as his ex-girlfriend Penny told him, it was a very common Muggle surname as well, so Martha's parentage was completely up in the air. Percy had actually known Martha… personally. She was a smart young thing who liked gossip and was passionately fond of Rita Skeeter. Percy had absently thought of asking her to dinner once or twice …before realizing that, **one** , Martha had quite possibly the most irritating laugh he had ever heard, and **two** , Martha simply wasn't Penny.

Percy frowned. It seemed very unusual that someone like Martha had given up part of her job.

He hadn't seen Martha in days, however. He had assumed she had fallen ill, which was an entirely dangerous assumption, as Percy suddenly remembered the sad fate of _'Bertha Jorkins'_ feeling the exact same horror he had felt when he thought he'd never see his Head Boy badge again - - but he, Percy Weasley, _Assistant to the Minister of Magic himself_ , would never have been asked to take over Martha Austen's duties because of a silly cold or a accidental hex.

Percy checked his pocket watch, trying not to remember that his parents had given it to him, tucked his wand into his sleeve for safe keeping (he had his robes made with a special pocket in the sleeve for his wand- he did like to have it close to hand), stacked all the charts and questionnaires and made his way down to the lowest floor. This really was odd and felt very strange indeed. True, he had a reputation for being a dedicated workaholic, but he had a Ministry to run (more or less- administrative details, which Percy reveled in … the same details that gave the new Minister headaches). Surely this task was an unimportant one when they considered how frosty the French ministry was.

Madame Olympe Maxime, headmistress of the Beauxbatons magical Academy of France, had friends in very high places indeed and she had believed Dumbledore's crap from the get-go. Then, of course, there was the _**Order of the Phoenix**_ , now declared a terrorist organization and the Minister's burning desire to incarcerate Harry Potter – declared an enemy of the state … surely Martha could handle something as comparatively minor as fact-checking registered Muggleborn's backgrounds….?

"Sorry about this," said the security witch, on the last floor, just by the elevator, bringing Percy out of his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"I need to have your wand for inspection", the witch said. "Strange really, these new rules - - but I suppose some people transfigure themselves before they come in or something, so I have to check your wand. So, er, I'll need to see it."

"Oh, of course," Percy said, handing it over. "Can't be too careful, can we… er-" friendly looking face, nose a little off-center, "Eloise is it? - - No it couldn't be …not after that disastrous invasion by the criminal Potter gang … a scandal really"

"Oh yes, it was. Loads of the regular guards disappeared after that … sacked, I suppose?" She said as she tapped his wand and muttered ' _Prior Incantato.'_ After she watched the smoky gray shapes of Percy's last few charms and spells flit about she handed it back. "There you go."

"Thank you, Eloise," he said absently, taking his wand back and burying his nose amongst his papers. "What a thorough job you're doing."

"And it isn't exactly _easy_ ," Eloise said, scratching absently at a spot the- 'bubotuber pus' -had not removed. "The Dementor's are all over the place now. Gives me the creeps I can tell you", she said as she involuntarily shivered. "I hate having them underfoot. Horrible, they are… just _horrible._ "

Percy tried for a reassuring smile. "They're for our protection. Now, have you seen Martha Austen around?"

"No, not for-days, which is odd; really - because we were chums back in Hufflepuff …ate lunch every day together. She hasn't gone on holiday I would have known – hasn't owled me or anything. You'd think she would if she was going out of town. I did nip by her flat yesterday, but she made it impenetrable after Dumbledore's funeral, so I couldn't go it."

"I shall have to report her absence," Percy muttered. Then, louder: "You are sure she isn't just ill?"

"She'd send me an owl, I think," Eloise said, albeit dubiously. "I mean, I would think she'd send me an owl. Unless she's to- _sick_ to send one …But then-again - she'd pop over to St. Mungo's, and I think I'm closest to her in the wizarding world, since her parents are both Muggles, which means as emergency contact - - St. Mungo's would owl me right-way …wouldn't they? I haven't had an owl from anyone in weeks though, so she can't be ill, can she?"

"Rest assured I shall look into it." With a swell of pride: "I've just been named Special Assistant to the Minister and I'm acquainted with his first Undersecretary, Madam Umbridge herself … who is waiting for these, you know. Top Ministry business cannot be kept waiting." He lifted up his documents, tucked his and back in his sleeve, and continued down the hallway and down the stairs. He braced himself against the unnatural chill of the Dementor's, the cold that sapped of strength, energy, and the will to go on living.

Percy thought even more grimly about his promotion as he walked on, making quite an affair of putting away his wand and restacking his papers. If he ignored the Dementor's chill, absorbed him-self in work he liked kept his mind busy – he'd be fine. He then accidentally dropped the top few sheets of parchment and one of the witches waiting on the hard wooden benches knelt down to help him with it.

"Ah, thank you…." Percy abruptly trailed off and looked up at the witch. "P-Penelope?"

The witch, in lime green robes with a crossed wand and bone embroidered on her chest, let the paper she picked up flutter from her fingers back to the floor. " _Oh._ " Penelope Clearwater, her blue eyes wide, looked up at him, a faint blush spreading over her pale cheeks. "I- er… hello?"

It is always awkward to meet an ex, and even more awkward when said ex dumped you in a particularly harsh fashion. Percy thought he had reached levels of awkwardness hitherto unknown to any couple who had broken up badly in the fact that **one** , he still happened to be more or less in love with said ex, and **two** , said ex told him in no uncertain terms she was breaking up with him because; he was working for a totally corrupt Ministry under Fudge and here he was, working for an even worst ministry under Pius Thicknesse , and **three** , said ex was currently awaiting the magical version of the Spanish inquisition with a predetermined outcome due to her now criminalized Muggleborn status… a trial which he, was most likely going to have to attend, and for which he was currently carrying all the incriminating evidence.

This was not turning out to be a good day.

"Miss Clearwater," Percy said. He picked up the papers very slowly, eyes on the floor. "It's… been a while."

"Yes," Penny said; with her hands were as cold as her tone - as Percy discovered when he brushed them accidentally. Her calm, pretty face was very pale and pinched.

Percy begun to feel absolutely miserable about this - - as the certain fate of this very pretty girl weighed in on him as surely as the bad memory of their breakup.

 _ **8888 flashback begins - -**_

" _You've made your mother cry!" Penny shouted at him, her long, curly hair whipping around and hiding her face._

 _He felt taught and tight and utterly angry. He felt raw, incredibly raw. "Penny, why do you keep revisiting this?"_

" _Because I spent an hour pouring her tea and patting her shoulder saying, 'Oh no, Percy's fine, he didn't mean it' and hearing that oh yes Percy you did and what's worse … you now think Dumbledore's an horrific liar and that he'd fed all of us false crap about Potter. A bloke who you say is ruining the future of your brother Ron. A sibling and foolish prat for loving Potter's girl - - Hermione. You've made your only sister Ginny cry with your prediction that she'll never be with Potter long-term and that Granger will steal him from her in the end. But by far the worse you've done is yell at your father and then refuse to have anything to do with your abusive and disloyal family… ever again."_

 _Penny's voice was low, sharp, wounding, with deadly, deadly accuracy. It was always dangerous when Penny really started talking on a subject. She preferred to watch, to listen, to sit quietly and think. It was always an incredibly serious matter when she broke past her habitual reserve._

" _Penny! Don't be unreasonable. Look, I have worked- really worked for years to get here. You should_ know _Penny! I ran the entire Department of International Magical Cooperation on my own for nearly a year. If you think I don't deserve this appointment-"_

 _Sharply: "Percy that's not it."_

" _Then_ what is _Penny?"_

 _She roughly grabbed her cloak off of the couch and turned her back to him. He could still see her hands tremble. "I hate you like this Percy. Listening to you go 'on and on' about how you had to fill in for the elder-Crouch when he disappeared was one thing, but this? Working for Fudge that Death Eater flunky is moronic and overly ambitious. He'd sell-out all of us for he's' a self-serving individual with little to no sense of morality or family loyalty… he'd sell out his mother if it helped his career."_

 _Nothing could hurt more than the raw-truth. And in a state of total-denial, his face hardened. "If that's what you really think of me, Penny- fine, fine! We all hold opinions …even if they're crackpot theories about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named coming back and plotting a bloodless Death Eater coup and ruining the Ministry by proxy"._

" _Oh shut up, Weatherby," Penny said, whirling around at him, her voice taught and tight and horrible to his ears. Percy felt something inside him crumble, some deep inner wound that twisted and hurt so unbearably that he felt he could no longer stand. He couldn't look at her. "We're through."_

 _And she was gone._

 _**_ **End flashback**

And thereafter;Percy was utterly alone, and he has been - - ever since then _._

Percy, with some difficulty, pulled himself out of his thoughts and tried for his usual elf- possession. "I am sorry that we did not part of amicable terms. I still think very highly of you and with our last meeting…"

"…I believe I dumped you, cold and hard" Penelope said, very simply. She looked down, her mouth suddenly twisting, as if she'd tasted something bitter. "I called you a moronic, overly ambitious, self- seeking individual with little to no sense of morality or family loyalty and apparently I was spot-on. Your career in serving genocidal tyrants has reached new heights."

"Very good memory," Percy replied, a little peevishly. And then, in an attempt to regain some of his dignity, he shoved his glasses up his nose and said, as pompously as he possibly could, "I don't suppose you regret dumping me?"

Penelope looked up at him and appeared to think about this a moment.

"No," she said.

"Oh-kay." Percy took the paper back from her, noticing Penny's closed - reserved expression. He took the paper back from her and looked at it.

It was hers.

"You don't need to explain," she said, stonily - - knowing all too well what he had in his hand.

"Penny-"

"Do excuse me, Mr. Weasley, but I do not think it is entirely 'within your rights' to call me by nicknames anymore." She sat down on the bench and picked up her book, staring fixedly at a spot on the page. _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ trembled in her hands. Percy thought she ought to give up the pretext entirely; it certainly wasn't fooling anyone.

Feeling rather waspish as well as incredibly depressed, he gathered up his papers and walked into the courtroom. His neck felt hot.

"Have you got the papers, Weasley?" Umbridge chirped, as soon as Percy walked in. "How very prompt! I just got in myself."

"Yes," he said dully, walking forward.

She exchanged a look with Yaxley, sitting next to her. Yaxley leaned forward. "Have you been down here before, Weasley?"

"No sir," Percy replied, focusing on the Patronus walking back and forth before Umbridge. It, he decided, was an utterly foul cat and it was with difficulty that he suppressed the urge to kick it.

"Oh, have the Dementor's got you down?" Umbridge asked, in her syrupy voice.

Percy struggled to respond. "I am not used to so many at once. Ah… may I ask what happened to Martha Austen, my predecessor?" He repressed a wince. His voice sounded shaky, weak.

"She's in Azkaban," Umbridge replied, making Percy stop in the middle of the courtroom. "Her work was not quite… up to standard." Umbridge's smile sickened him. Percy forced himself to step forward.

"What have you got there, Weasley?" she asked.

Percy looked at his clenched fist. "Er…." He had unconsciously crumpled up Penelope Clearwater's questionnaire.

"Hand it over."

Percy did so, having been trained for years to obey authority.

"Now, Weasley," Umbridge continued on, her voice so syrupy sweet Percy wondered why she wasn't diabetic, "why did you crumple up this questionnaire? Did the nasty Mudblood lie to us?"

Dolores Umbridge, Percy thought miserably, had an ability hitherto unknown outside of his family, to make him feel like a naughty five-year-old. "No."

"Then why did you do this to Penelope Clearwater's questionnaire? I know you would ever be… _disloyal_ to the Ministry, so what is this filthy Mudblood to you? Did she misspell something? I know you dislike that."

Percy felt the back of his neck heat up again. "I was- she was back at Hogwarts … my first girlfriend," he said stiffly, too proud to tag on that she had been his only girlfriend. He felt he ought to tag something on, but couldn't quite think of it.

"Oh, embarrassed, are you?" Yaxley asked.

Percy nodded quickly. He was embarrassed- mostly because Penelope had completely rejected him, _**again**_ , even though he was _Special_ _Assistant to the Minister of Magic himself_ , and partly because he had been caught trying to keep Penelope, however unconsciously, from coming to trial.

Umbridge looked quite surprised, either because she had not imagined Percy could debase himself to date a mere Muggleborn, or because she thought Percy had never had a girlfriend. It was more likely the latter, but Percy pretended it was the former, to salvage what was left of his pride.

"Did you never think to ask if she was a Mudblood?" Yaxley asked, looking a little surprised.

"No," Percy said. "She was petrified by a basilisk in my sixth year, Sir Nicholas was as well, and he has one of the most impressive pedigrees in wizarding society. I looked it up in _Hogwarts, a History_ in my first year- distantly related to Merlin, you know. All the Hogwarts ghosts are pure-blooded. I was told The Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw Ghost, is somehow related to Ravenclaw herself." He was babbling. Percy cut himself off by clearing his throat and making a great show of restacking his papers.

"Mudblood's," Umbridge said wickedly… slowly, toying with her stubby wand, "can be so devious, can't they, Percy?" There was something sickening in her smile, in her voice. Percy felt ill. "I can call you Percy, can I not? I feel quite a _connection_ with you Percy. How easy it is to make mistakes in the heyday of one's youth! - Not that I ever did," she added, with a silvery little laugh. "But for a young man, it is so easy to be taken in by a pretty face." Percy nearly trembled with rage as he thought: ' _Taken in… by Penny_?'

"He's clearly in shock, Dolores," Yaxley said sounding slightly amused, who was turning out to be extremely helpful by telling Percy how to behave. "Ah, I remember a Veela in my youth…."

Umbridge cleared her throat with a little 'hem-hem' sound. "Is this entirely appropriate, Yaxley?"

"Er, no." He turned to Percy. "Can't believe you tainted yourself, did you? Well, know better now …don't you?"

"Indeed!' Umbridge chirped, taking the papers from Percy. "It is a shock to discover that one has been so deceived, but you are a Weasley and… known for your hot blood!" She clicked her tongue. "You are not the first Weasley to be deceived by someone from the wrong side of the tracks… eh? - - Ronald, your brother has been tainted by a Mudblood too, hasn't he? – But will sort that out too - - soon enough. It is to your credit that you (at least) have recognized your error - - and have learned from it, yes?"

"Mm," Percy said in noise that was noncommittal in tone, doing everything he could to keep himself from leaping up and throttling the senior Undersecretary; instead he tried to look as neutral as possible.

"Now you can move on and find a nice _pureblood_ girl of proper breeding, who has the political connections required to help advance your career. I see a bright future ahead of you and the cornerstone is a Marital-alliance with the right families. If you play your cards right, I will introduce you to one of my cousins for you know I am related to almost every pureblooded family that's worth Knowing." With a toad-like smile she asked for payment: "I shall put you in charge of the prisoners today. You can deliver them to Azkaban. That will cheer you up immeasurably, I'm sure."

Percy forced himself to look grateful, his blood pounding furiously through his veins. ' _My life depends on this woman's trust,_ ' he thought savagely, trying to keep his control over himself, ' _My life depends on this woman's trust._ '

"Thank you very much Dolores," Percy managed. "I really am shocked that I could be so…so - **taken in**." He could not help the flash of real fury at that, the raging bitterness that leapt up to choke him. Hopefully it added to the verisimilitude.

"No need to punish Percy for being deceived - he is already angry enough at himself", Yaxley said.

Umbridge smiled. "Of _course_ he is, aren't you, Percy?"

"I… really!" he spluttered, before making a big show of taking a deep, calming breath. "Yes, well, I have a job to do. Miss Clearwater will get what's coming to her." Savagely, with an utter self- loathing he just managed to disguise as anger towards Penelope: "I shall make sure of it. It is my job, after all. I would not give it up for anyone."

Yaxley and Umbridge looked exceptionally pleased with him and themselves.

"You will send word once the trials are over?" Percy asked, with a vague return to his usual pompousness. "I should so hate to miss out."

"But of course!" Umbridge exclaimed.

Percy walked out of the room, posture ramrod straight, chin tilted up, and shut the door behind him firmly. Once out he leaned against the door, sagging. He had to answer to all the memos still in his in-tray, the Minister always took his tea about now, they had an hour and a half until the latest press conference and their appointed spokes-wizard desperately needed the practice, there was that new bill he had to drafted on when and where and why the Killing Curse could be legally excused, there was probably another dead body in the Atrium again that no one bothered to clean up, and- oh Merlin- in three hours he had to take Penelope Clearwater to Azkaban.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no…..

"It didn't go well?" asked one woman, managing to look up off of the floor. "I've heard it never goes well."

"No, it never does," Percy said thickly. He desperately wanted to edit some statements, do something, anything reassuringly simple- rearrange a department, reorganize the security measures….

"It'll be all right in the end," said the woman, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

"No," Percy said, glancing over to where Penelope stared at her book. "It won't."

OoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 2

In which Percy makes a decision

Percy sat in his office, viciously attacking the interdepartmental memo on new security procedures. It already bore so much red ink it looked like a communist flag, not a document on random office searches and wand inspections.

At the very top of the paper he managed to cram a, 'You profess to have a complete understanding of wizarding security? Let me know when you have mastered contemporary English. I find that to be a much more pressing matter.'

He sent it zooming off into the bowels of the Ministry with a flick of his wand and, dismayed, discovered that he did not have any more work in his in- box. He got up and restlessly paced his new office, the swivel chair spinning about uselessly when he stood. Percy glared out the enchanted window.

It was raining inside the Minister's office again. Magical Maintenance had been very upset at the treatment of Mrs. Cattermole, The woman and her Maintenance worker husband were both very popular with the working class. Both of whom had abruptly disappeared the same day the criminal Potter had broken in to the Ministry. Potter had been blamed for the disappearance of the Cattermole's, but no one believed the Ministry's press announcements anymore.

Percy suddenly remembered that there had been tornadoes for the past week in all senior Department Heads offices run by Death Eaters. At least it wasn't raining inside his office, like it was in Yaxley's across the Hall. Percy supposed it must be because he hadn't done anything to upset Magical Maintenance unduly.

 _It really was better in the long run_ , - he reflected -, to keep the peace within the Ministry, to follow the regulations established under law and uphold them. He had never asked the impossible of any department and when they came to him for help getting what they needed for a project … Percy had a reputation of doing his bit to speed things along. He always followed the laws to the letter and was scrupulously fair in his dealings with the support staff.

He had never done anything at all to go against his sense of right and wrong (based, as it was on the law, which was much better than being based on a feeling of what was good and what wasn't - - the law was so much clearer, so much easier to follow, so much more organized and perfect). Rather, it was more correct to say; that he had never done anything that went against the legal right and wrong, that was, until today. Percy stood up and calmly, methodically walked around the room, giving his body something to do while he lost himself in thought.

Where did that thought come from? He had fulfilled his duties just as exactly and perfectly as he always had and always did. He had ensured that the evidence brought before Dolores Umbridge was factually correct, in order to that each accused member had a fair and impartial trial, as guaranteed to them by Wizarding law. He had in no way altered the evidence in a show of bias (aside from that unfortunate crumpling of Penelope Clearwater's questionnaire, which he hoped would not reflect badly on _her_ ). He had followed the letter of the law exactly in this matter. But, all the same, there was that sense of having done something wrong….

Percy mentally flipped through the annals of wizarding Law, he'd memorized them over the summer before his sixth year, in between writing long letters to Penelope and finishing his homework with exacting detail and precision, and had the perfect recall of someone who had not had a date in two years and spent his Friday nights reading case law.

Ah! That was what was bothering him. The _**Statute on Wand-Users of 1789**_ , section one, clause two, sub-clause 'E', that explicitly stated that there should be no distinction between Muggleborn witches and wizards and witches and wizards that were born into pureblooded families in their right to own and use wands. The newest decree directly contradicted that and there was tons of case law that declared that the suspending of due-process, the right of legal counsel and judiciary review as it applies to capital criminal trials or of any crime that had a possibility of death or a life sentence in Azkaban … is totally unlawful. Besides which, Percy remembered, Pius Thicknesse had told him to stuff the law up his - well - - he wasn't going to think about that.

The main thing was that Pius didn't apparently care that under existing Law the entire Wizengamot must be convened in order to pass a new law or repeal old ones. He was the Minister of Magic and he was ruling by decree/executive order under the excuse of terrorist raids by the Dumbledore/Potter gang. Civil unrest was no reason to toss the rule of law under the bus! That was the bottom-line. He (Percy) was following a decree that hadn't officially become law. It wasn't law; it hadn't been passed and ratified according to procedure.

Therefore, Percy was aiding and abetting in _breaking the law_ , since he was assisting in trials that were based on a decree which was _directly contradicted a law_. He froze. He was _breaking the law_. For the first time in his life, he was not following the law.

Percy felt suddenly and overwhelmingly furious; he was angry at himself for being duped, angry at the Minister of Magic who forced him to break the law, angry at everyone and everything that had led him to do this – _**horrible thing**_ \- - to knowingly break the law - - when he had walked away from his family almost directly in order to avoid it. He wanted to kick at something and settled for… 'accidentally-on-purpose' - knocking over his waste-paper bin before viciously throwing all of his rubbish back into it.

"I-hate-my-life," Percy snarled empathically, with each furious slam of crumpled paper. "For I'm Single handedly running this bloody …totally illegal… administration". Percy had found more paper to crumple up and pelt into the bin "-and-now-this; a stupid-and-flagrant-breach-of-criminal-law!"

Percy irritably hoped all the charms he'd put on his office for the sake of security would hold, though at this point he was beyond caring. He was furiously angry. If the Aurors showed up right now, if the Minister stormed in- Percy felt reckless enough too…"

Consequences be damned. Fudge, Dumbledore and Potter were well-known for breaking the rules and taking the law into their own hands, while Percy was all about understanding and upholding the law.

This was all - - this was …too much. He had suspected that he'd chosen the wrong side when Scrimgeour was murdered, when the Dementor's returned, when they'd started registering Muggleborn's - but it was far too late to turn back the clock …now. He'd chosen and no one would accept him back. Before he could even try, they would fling mashed parsnip (or turnip, or potato, or anything that George had at hand) at him - - and his dignity and pride would not permit him to 'go-on' after his overtures were so brutally rejected.

But… how could everything be so black and white? How could authority be so wrong? How could authority make him _break the law_? - How could he **save** _Penelope_ and at least a dozen other people whose only crime had been being-born from Muggle stock; how could a mere Weasley save from death in a wizarding prison … the innocent …under the very noses of the newly faithful Dementor's? Something was seriously wrong with the state, with the whole government, for something this bad to happen, to 'by-design' make the laws of the land meaningless, to persecute people for crimes no greater than an accident of birth. Percy felt the fury flare up again and had the vicious urge to destroy something - - - He had to calm down. Percy forced himself to take a deep, slow breath. He had to be _rational_ now. There was no need to let emotions control him and his actions. He seldom let them, except when he was too angry to remember anything but his fury.

Well, so, if he was breaking the law. What could he do about it? He as Junior in this administration as – **NO** \- strike that thought - he was _A_ _ssistan_ _t_ to the Minister of Magic. He was running the Ministry. If he left they would hunt him down- and he knew Dolores and Thicknesse to well to think he had any hope of survival once he'd been found out. Besides which, he didn't have anywhere _to_ run. His family had always subconsciously hated him and no their hatred had come to the fore. No chance of being accepted back there….

He could… it was possible to try and… take the law back to what it originally should be. There was the chance that he could free the Muggleborn's in Azkaban. It was the right and just thing to do. They couldn't do anything to stop him … not really, that wasn't already illegal. Of course that hadn't stopped them before. He would probably be dead as a door nail, as soon as someone even remotely guessed what he was thinking. He could already see the tombstone and the funeral no one attended. Any way out of this situation, out of the Ministry, led to certain death.

Come to think of that, it wasn't quite such a terrifying prospect anymore. Percy balled up another draft of the memo on interdepartmental security and slammed it into the waste-paper bin so hard all the other papers exploded out of it. Percy felt darkly pleased.

Had the split with the family been worth it? - Percy looked around the office and frowned. It had been; up until Thicknesse and the Death Eater's took over things. It had shocked him, but he hadn't much missed his family. He couldn't say he was entirely displeased to be without Fred and George's constant pranks and bullying. The great achievement shadows cast by Bill and Charlie, had been challenging … the arguments with Ron and Ginny over the 'boy-who-lived'. Come to think-on-it, his entire family's ability to welcome Harry Potter as a surrogate son and reject him, Percy, as a viable part of the Weasley clan.

He certainly didn't miss how his parents always had that unspoken expectation for him to be _perfect_ without actually ever noticing him, unless something went wrong and he had to fix it, or when Percy had forced them to pay attention to him. He did miss Bill, though. He missed the eldest of his siblings - the only brother- who had actually liked him and considered him an actual human being.

However, when Bill had swung by his flat, shortly after mum had, and just after Penny had sent him several owls with all of the books and other personal items he'd left at her place - - and Percy had been so bitterly angry and miserable - that everyone was trying to force him to Join the Dumbledore/Potter Kabbala of rules breakers. To go directly against his conscience and _violate the law_ that he'd snapped at Bill and they'd gotten into a vicious row- the first vicious row Percy had ever had with Bill. As it turned-out, Bill neither spoke nor wrote to Percy after that; but what was done was done. No one in his family wanted anything to do with him and that was just fine... he was sure he didn't want anything to do with them either. But now that he'd been forced to acknowledge the horrible people he worked with and the evil they were doing; the whole reason for the split became null and void. He'd fallen into the very filth which he had tried so hard to avoid.

Percy was still too hurt to miss his family, though he vaguely realized he had wronged them just as much as they had wronged him. After a few moments of furious paper shredding, Percy grudgingly acknowledged that perhaps his job was no longer as important as his family. He didn't actually have friends to morn his passing, now that he thought of it. There _had_ been Oliver Wood, but generally they didn't owl each other during training season, it ended up being very bad for Percy's owl Hermes, who Oliver would, in the midst of his Quidditch madness, often mistake for a fuzzy Quaffle. Therefore, Percy reasoned, it was Oliver's profession that had kept Percy from his friends… friend.

But Penelope….

Percy had to acknowledge that his job-obsession had cost him Penelope long-before now and being a perfect burrocrat was costing him Penelope again. This time it was worse, though, much worse, because Penny would go to Azkaban and there was the completely terrifying and utterly horrible thought that she could die there. Penelope had always been and probably would 'ever be' the only person to listen to him, to _understand_ him, and, quite possibly, to be willing to go for a bit of a snog in an empty classroom just before her Charms class.

There had always been times when Percy felt invisible, where he smarted for having done all the work, and more, only to be completely ignored for doing so flawlessly - - which, Percy reasoned, was probably why promotions and honors meant so much to him and why he nearly killed himself with work each week- but with Penny he was never invisible. He was always someone with Penelope, because she had loved him and he had loved her devotedly. Wrong tense- Percy still loved her devotedly.

In light of recent events he decided that he didn't love his job nearly half as much anymore. And then Percy suddenly realized that he had also lost his joy in climbing the burrocratic ladder… entirely. There were some aspects he still _enjoyed_ , like the new light and the very nice leather swivel chair and the lovely enchanted drawers of his desk, which made filing ever so much easier, but his favorite part of working in the Ministry had been abruptly ruined … when- _**He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named**_ -had come back and taken over the Ministry - - from the dead or the grave or whatever state of being was anatomically appropriate.

Percy had greatly enjoyed running the Department of International Magical Cooperation with a fierce kind of joy that he was not even sure could be called joy. It went much deeper, felt much more primal. It was his job, his triumph- he brought the same level of attention to dealing with the French, the Spanish, the Americans, during countless governmental gala's and political functions - - as he did to regulating cauldron bottom thickness or broom speed and maneuverability.

He always took delight in being meticulous and… perhaps a little pedantic, but he did the job assigned him and drove himself to exceed the expectations anyone had ever had for him. And when a new treaty was signed, or a bill _he had written_ made it into law, he felt he had created something lasting that would change the world for the benefit of all – the thought of making his mark gave him a heady delirium, that special joy so fierce and so powerful; that all other thoughts, all other emotions died away in that 'heart-swelling' pleasure.

Did he really have that feeling - - when he had received his promotion, earlier this morning? Percy, absently shredding up a wad of paper he had picked up off of the floor, forced himself out of his current situation to look critically, analytically at the events of the morning (only that morning? It felt far longer). He had been proud, pleased. There was that feeling of expansion – or – swelling, rather. He likened it to the behavior that led to the 'Bigheaded boy' badge he'd had until Hermione took pity on him and let him know so he could change it back.

It- it felt more like a swelling, truth be told, a momentary pleasure that flashed horizontal, like a nice sunset that faded away. It was not that vertical sweep of sheer _joy_ that towered in his memory like ancient marble pillars. Percy tossed the half- shredded, incredibly crumpled bit of paper back and forth between his two hands. ' _It was a matter of detail_ ', Percy thought, ' _mechanically analyzing the problem'_. No one else really thought about these things (no one he knew, anyways, besides Penny), no one else (not even Penny) paid attention to _detail_ as he did. No one saw how parts fitted into a whole, how each part had to work smoothly for everything else to even function, how much care one had to pay to each seemingly insignificant detail because things often broke because something minor was missing or broken.

Perhaps he wasn't as popular with people as little Ronnie was, not even Bill had been as approachable as a 'prefect' as Ronnie had been. Such a helpful 'big-brother' figure to the first years that even Percy had felt a-tad jealous. Percy had striven to be respected, first as Prefect and then as Head Boy… but being aloof hadn't worked so well; for the first years had actually feared him. Aloof and respected shouldn't automatically translate to unapproachable… Percy bemoaned. Granger personified unapproachable and she had been just as inflexible with the rules as a prefect as Percy had been. But she had Ron to offset her anti-social tendencies and soften her inflexibility. - It wasn't fair. - Percy certainly didn't want to be nearly worshiped like a demi-god as Dumbledore and Potter had been. Nor had he ever wanted to be the class clown like the twins. All he asked was respect and all he had gotten was ridicule.

Ron's unspoken talent was being approachable; it gained him understated popularity that he didn't have to work at. A talent that Percy acknowledged he'd never possess. He could not command anyone's attention for extended periods of time, but he understood how things _worked_ , he could manipulate the minuscule details to a particular outcome. It was better to know how to run something, he thought, moodily, than to have the credit for running it. It didn't stop him from wanting the credit, of course, for wanting the positions of power where he could and did control all the details he saw neglected and hated to see neglected. It angered him that people didn't care about those sorts of things, how they ignored the importance of each part. But it really was strange how people in positions of power forgot the _details_ -

The details… Percy tossed the piece of parchment into the fire and watched it shrivel. Truthfully, no one but him ever paid attention to the details in the Ministry. Then, perhaps… a plan unfurled itself in Percy's mind and he shivered involuntarily at the thoughts swirling around in his head. No one really understood the law like he did, after all, no one- _**saw**_ -the mistakes he thought were painfully o bvious and no one else really noticed the discrepancies….

Theoretically, it was entirely possible to fool the Ministry. Very few people were above him- the Heads of the various Departments, Dolores Umbridge, and the Minister himself, but that was it. Percy knew each of his superiors thoroughly, down to how they took his tea (generally, because in meetings among his superiors Percy was the most junior, he had to go fetch tea for everyone else). They all saw the big picture very easily, they saw the whole of what everyone worked to achieve, but they never noticed if a detail or three, went wrong.

Take Ludo Bagman for instance, who failed to notice when one of his employees had gone missing for months. Just look at the messy administration Percy kept forcing through their paces until they knew how to file and how to spell 'interdepartmental' correctly. There were no longer any Mr. Crouches in the Ministry. No one took the same care with their work; no one saw the mistakes that Percy did. Percy then sat behind his desk in the swivel chair and idly spun his wand around as he considered things.

He was an extremely accomplished wizard, after all. He had gotten every O.W.L. and every N.E.W.T. it was possible to receive. Memory charms were not so difficult after all, and if he fixed the memories of the guards at Azkaban, then the plan possibly, just possibly could work... It was difficult to do with _his_ wand, though. He had helped draft some of the new security measures. If only the Muggleborn's still had their wands- he could use one and then give it to the Muggleborn who would Apperate away and go into hiding... making his memory charms untraceable.

This was surely madness. He, Percy, break the law again? He, Percy, _Assistant to the Minister_ , go against the Ministry? He couldn't pit himself against the _entire Ministry of Magic_. That was an incredibly stupid idea. People were arrested and dying for much more minor crimes each day! Look at Martha. It was suicidal to go against the Ministry. Not to mention particularly damaging to his career. Ah, but then came the argument that he no longer cared about his career, followed by the argument that if he took people illegally put in prison … out of prison, he was not breaking the law. He was fixing a miscarriage of justice and _actually_ following the law, unlike the rest of the ministry put in place to _uphold_ the law.

Umbridge's toad-like (disrespectful, but true) face popped up into the flames of his office floo/fireplace and Percy flicked his wand, neatly sending all the wads of paper back into the bin.

"Are you there, Percy?"

Percy stood and walked to the fireplace, straightening his tie. "Ah! Dolores! How may I be of assistance?"

"We are quite finished," Umbridge said, with yet another smile that sickened him. "You will escort the twelve prisoners to Azkaban, via the Floo network. Is that quite understood?"

Percy gave a short bow. "Yes indeed, Senior Undersecretary."

A swarm of questions popped into Percy's mind- the details, all the unmentioned details….

"Shall I make contact with the wardens?" Percy asked. "And what will happen to the wands we confiscated from the… new prisoners?"

"Of course", she said wickedly. "We put the wands in a sealed box for the warden's pleasure. When the prisoners misbehave the wardens take out the wands and break them … right in front of their eyes", Umbridge laughed. "Clever isn't it! I am so very fond of the idea."

Percy forced a smile and added a bleak, 'ahaha'. He never really had gotten the hang of laughing. He couldn't really understand the point of most comedy, actually. He tried, he had certainly _tried_ , but like popularity … humor was another of life's details that he couldn't really grasp - - and it infuriated him as much as it wounded him; he never could accept the practical jokes his family played on him as 'good fun' as a result.

"I shall let you hop to it, then. I'll have an escort waiting." Her face disappeared. Percy absently tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and knelt on the rug. "Azkaban," he enunciated, pushing his glasses up his nose before sticking his face into the fire. When he opened his eyes again, Percy looked into a stone room very sparsely decorated (except for a few stuffed, hanging heads of dead animals on the wall and a tattered curtain over the window), with a man in a black room leaning back in an old wooden chair, his boots propped up on the edge of a very battered wooden table. Percy felt an instinctive twinge of dislike.

"Walden Macnair?" he called.

The man swung his feet off of the table. "Speaking… and who are you?"

"Percy Weasley, Assistant to the Minister of Magic," Percy said pompously, feeling the inherent flash of pride in the new title.

The man twisted his black moustache. "I'm on duty with Mulicber." His tone implied the question, 'Should I get him?'

Percy felt another twinge of discomfort. Mulicber a long time Death Eater had been a _prisoner_ in Azkaban a year ago and now he ran the place. "It is not necessary to summon him. I shall be quiet soon … personally escorting some prisoners over to Azkaban."

"How many?" Macnair asked.

With a glance at the heads on the walls and a certain chill of foreboding, Percy remembered his plan and wondered just how much he cared about saving his own life. What was the value of his life to another's? Would he mind disgracing himself for the chance that a few would live? But then he committed himself to the plan. It was the right thing to do- **not legal** \- on the surface, but every apparently legal action of the past few months had not been proper law at all, they had controverted the very foundations of wizarding society…. He suddenly realized that he had taken an uncomfortable pause and so he cleared his throat, made a decision, and said, as pompously as he possibly could, "There were a few unfortunate accidents today. We only have two prisoners that still need to be watched."

Macnair smiled nastily. "… and what exactly happened to the others?"

Percy gave him a severe look. "Very well; if you must know, the Dementor's got a little … overly excited in the courtroom, broke-away from their handlers and … **fed**. I will see you shortly. We will Floo over." He pulled his head out of the fire and brushed the soot out of his neatly parted hair. He could feel the blood rush through his veins, his heart pound in the sudden, all-encompassing fear. His head suddenly ached and it hurt to breathe. His whole body seemed to remind him that he was alive, reminded him what it felt like to _feel,_ to breathe, to live.

What had he been thinking? What was he doing? - - He was _breaking the law_. The thought shattered in his mind and Percy sat, immobilized on the rug. He had _broken the law_. He had lied to a Ministry-appointed official, had deliberately mucked-up the long established process of incarceration. Percy took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The law in itself was good- it had to be. It was absolute and detailed and was put in place by those in authority to protect everyone from their baser impulses. It was what made the world make sense. - - But, Percy then thought, clenching his fists and almost breaking his glasses in the process, the world had not made sense from some time. And these new executive-orders, masquerading as law … fundamentally contradicted by other laws, and as a result the framework of the world, the entire structure that held up the magic and the witches and wizards began to crumble away under the weight of these contradictions, threatening to send wizarding society into ruin.

Perhaps, he thought, just perhaps, the Thicknesse laws were so far unlawful - they needed to be directly apposed. The old laws had to be upheld, supplemented by the new, or revised entirely based on principles so old even Merlin had known of them. Percy felt frightened at the enormity of his thoughts. Breaking the law, breaking the rules- there wasn't any excuse for it, was there? There couldn't be. But - Percy thought, still arguing the point in his head; No one individual should be making law because that was tyranny – and any dictatorship was horribly wrong for the people it oppressed. In spite of all its inefficiencies; the Wizengamot was the voice of the people. If any tyranny contradicted the will of a free people then the tyrant (Thicknesse) had to be brought down. Rule by whim never made sense and couldn't bring order to any society – especially if all laws made by the tyrant are rendered meaningless. So in conclusion; the new Thicknesse laws weren't actually laws… at all -

Percy clenched his fists so hard the rims of his glasses cut into his palms, abruptly bringing himself out of his purely cerebral inner world into the physical world in which he had to move. He had made a choice. He had picked a path. It was time to follow it. Was he a Gryffindor or not? He adjusted his appearance in the mirror on the wall and picked up his wand. "You're a brave, talented wizard and you can do this," he told the mirror.

"Of course you are," the mirror said, snidely.

' _The mirror was going to have to go'_ , Percy thought to himself.

OoOoOo

Chapter 3

OoOoOo

Percy stepped out of the elevator, waited for Eloise to take his wand and then muttered, "Martha's in Azkaban."

Eloise gaped at him in shock, his wand falling from her fingers. They both knelt down to pick it up.

"Why?" Eloise breathed.

"Her work wasn't up to standard," Percy said, looking around quickly. "Eloise, I have often thought that you would be best suited to the security detail assigned to the - Floo network."

Eloise clearly had no idea what he was trying to say. "Very kind of you, but what is this about Martha?"

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you were on Floo detail I would be so happy to share more details of Miss Austen's wrongdoings and _imprisonment_ with you." - - Really, Hufflepuffs were so thick.

"What does being on the 'Floo detail' have to do with Martha?"

Percy gave her a long- suffering look. "All right Eloise, I will say this very plainly. I am going to Azkaban to deliver prisoners." - - She looked at him blankly again. - - "Via the Floo network," - - No change in expression - - "Which is how I will be returning." He said slowly

"And if I was on Floo detail… oh… I can cover for you!" Eloise looked at him in dawning comprehension. "Yes, I'll switch with Alexander- he can stand the Dementor's better than I can anyways. I keep remembering how I cursed my nose off when I was younger." She shivered while handing back Percy's wand without checking it.

Percy felt immediately heartened. He had noticed Eloise had forgotten to check Martha's wand whenever Martha had departed some particularly long winded bit of gossip. This was a good thing to keep in mind. Percy took his wand, tucked it back in his sleeve, and strode down the corridor, trying to ignore the crying witches and wizards around him.

Umbridge, with her- ' _ **cat Patronus'**_ -dancing around her, smiled hugely at Percy. "Ah, Percy, there will be two Dementor's will accompany you, along with Jugson. Here you are." She handed him the box of wands and Percy took it gingerly; knowing that Jason Jugson was yet another Death Eater and former inmate of Azkaban. The box was almost dripping with confined magic. "And _here_ is the paperwork. Have Walden Macnair (the High warden) sign that he's received all the prisoners and their wands- I am sure you are well aware of proper procedure."

Percy nodded and tucked the paperwork into the inside pocket of his robes.

"Of course they are in chains - I do not think you will need to remove them, but if Fredric Mulicber greets you in the reception room, the chains are to come off and return with you. A simple 'finite incantatem' will suffice to unlock them." Percy tried not to look at the glowing blue handcuffs and the chains that linked all the prisoners together. He had the sinking suspicion that they shocked the wearer if said wearer moved too quickly.

Yang Yaxley currently the 'Department Head of law enforcement' came over with a small, twitchy wizard that Percy had never seen before. The wizard grinned at Percy and introduced himself. "I'm Jason Jugson I run the snatcher section for the Ministry. Let's get these Mudblood's off to where they deserve, eh?"

"Quite," Percy said. He turned to see Penny glaring at him, her shackled arms around an elderly witch who sobbed uncontrollably… possibly a relative. Percy looked away and stared at the ceiling as he walked over to the elevator.

He found Jugson next to him, still grinning greasily. "Pity we can't have a little… fun, eh?" He pushed the button to level eight.

"Fun?" Percy asked, as if it were an alien concept. It _was_ , come to think of it. He watched the prisoners pile in, the Dementor's ghosting along behind them like the horrible specters they were.

"Yeah;" Jugson lowered his voice, which was entirely needless due to the level of hysterical sobbing in the elevator. "That one with the blue eyes - the quiet, contained one. I bet it'd be a pleasure to hear her scream."

Percy felt himself flush with rage. He pressed his lips together and tried to see past the haze of anger. Self-contained, self-possessed, he managed to look relatively calmly at Jugson. Curiously, without a hint of the rage he felt he said: "You… get your jollies from something like that?"

"It's a thrill, I tell you," Jugson informed him, with a leering sort of grin. Like most people, he just wanted to monologue. Percy decided to keep quiet and deal with it. "A well-placed Cruciatus Curse has its merits. Yes, I remember the first time I saw how… "

Percy tuned him out and pressed his lips together. ' _Focus on something else'_. He said to himself. ' _Elevator rides were always an adventure, but… really, Dementor's? There had to be a more suitable way of transporting Dementor's. Having them on the elevator seemed a mockery of the daily commute_ '.

"Our floor," Jugson said interrupting Percy's ponderings and then the Death Eater shoved his way roughly through the prisoners, which caused a noticeable increase of muffled screams and hysterics.

Jugson's presence was unexpected and thoroughly unpleasant glitch in Percy's latent plan. Originally, he had thought to step through the fire with the paperwork and, while Macnair initialed seventeen different places, stunned Mulicber and then whirled around to stun Macnair. It wasn't really a _good_ plan, but Percy was not used to rule-breaking and had little to no idea how to go about it. It had really taken some firm decision-making to attempt an attack on an opponent who wasn't prepared and didn't have a wand. What was he to do now? Jugson's mere presence was bad enough, but his homicidal tendencies – wait…hold on… that's it! - …His homicidal tendencies... - - Percy then managed to skirt his way past the Dementor's, with only a vague flicker of a horrible recurring nightmare he'd had as a child: ' _about some man who'd broken in and threatened to kill his entire family if he didn't take good care of his pet rat, Scabbers_ ,' - - shaking his head to clear the vision he approached Jugson.

"I was thinking," Percy said carefully, "that I should go in first to get the paperwork out of the way. After five minutes, you could send the prisoners through, along with the Dementor's, before following yourself. That would give me ample time to, ah... get rid of Macnair and Mulicber, and we could have the room and the prisoners alone - but, understand this clearly if anyone asks. As a high- ranking Ministry official, once I get the papers signed and departed, that will leave the prisoners in the sole control of your fine self. I will not be and was not present for the moment of transfer because I flooed back to file the paperwork. Whatever 'fun' happens after I'm gone… I had no part of … you understand plausible deniability - - Don't you?"

Jugson's eyes gleamed. "Entirely; you will not see a thing."

Percy nodded, feeling sick again and hiding it. "Not a thing." He walked quickly over to the line of floo fireplaces, used to travel all over wizarding England so Jugson could not see Percy's look of complete disgust and took a pinch of powder from the vase on the mantle. "Azkaban!" he cried, throwing the powder in and stepping into the flames. He stepped carefully into the stone room he had seen earlier and took a moment to brush the soot off of his robes and the top of the box of wands.

"Weasley?" asked Macnair.

"Indeed," Percy said crisply, falling back easily on a pompous demeanor. He took the documents out from his inside pocket with a flourish and put them on the table.

"Paperwork?" Macnair asked dismally. "I finished the roster of prisoners for Dolores."

"Indeed," Percy repeated, pulling out one of the ever-present self- inking quills in his breast pocket. He tucked the roster away, keeping Eloise Midgen in mind. Very pompously: "Now, you will note that the sheet says 'twelve', which is for the purposes of paperwork and mostly for the benefit of anyone from the Prophet who looks into the matter. We at the Ministry-" with a very smug tone indeed "- do need to keep things... tidy. It would be very careless to admit what had happened to our other prisoners. As for the last two..." Percy cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the surroundings. "Well, they have obviously seen too much. Jugson has volunteered to... help them forget this day's events. If you could loan him this room for the space of a half-hour, the Ministry would remember your services - and the Ministry 'pays back in full' such remembered favors."

Macnair looked rather cheerful at this.

"Sign here, here, next page, there, there, initial here and here, sign there, next page, there, there, there, initial here, final signature- thank you." Percy fanned the paper to dry the ink and then tucked it back in his pocket.

"No chance Jugson would need a little... assistance?"

Percy suddenly hated Macnair and Jugson and the Ministry and everyone he had been working for since Scrimgeour death. It was with extreme difficulty that he hid the sudden, utter flash of loathing behind a peeved expression. "Ask Jugson. He's being entirely too authoritarian about the entire business. Mind you, you did not hear that from _me_. - I daresay, though _I_ of course said no such thing, that there will be something left in here for you to play with after a half-hour has passed unless Jugson is horrifically prodigal with the powers bestowed upon him." Percy sniffed to express his derision and checked his pocket watch. "Jugson shall be here shortly with our two remaining prisoners, so, if you do not mind...?"

Macnair walked out and shut the door just as the first Dementor and the first prisoner stepped through the fire place. Percy found it fascinating that the blue chains (must be made out of light, no other reason to glow like that and send out sparks) extended into the fire and blazed like the tips of flame. He waited silently and impassively as all the prisoners straggled through, but walked up to Jugson as he and the last Dementor stepped into the room.

"The room is yours for the next half- hour," Percy informed him, taking him over to beside the fireplace. "Try not to make too much of a mess. I shall leave you to your fun now. Ah, the Floo powder was…" Right behind Jugson's head; exactly according to plan. Percy shook his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at Jugson, who glanced behind him to see the Floo powder. Percy thought, ' _Stupefy!'_ furiously.

Jugson stiffed abruptly before keeling over like a wooden statue, which, for no reason Percy could determine, made the nearest few prisoners scream and increase their hysterical sobbing.

"Oh do stop with that nonsense!" Percy demanded, seeing the Dementor's swoop closer, their mouths opening. Happy thought, happy thoughts … god damnit, did he even have _any_ happy thoughts?

His letter along with the Head Boy badge- ' _Every teacher and staff member was unanimous in their recommendations of you for this position, and we know that no one could fulfill such a duty as well as you. Congratulations on your overly deserved recognition.'_ \- his mother sobbing and hugging him to her chest- his father beaming- "Oh how proud we are of you!" from them both- Penny's own letter, ink smudged and so excited for him Percy loved it despite, no, because of its illegibility- a feeling of finally, _finally_ belonging...

" _Expecto Patronum,_ " Percy bellowed, pointing his wand at the Dementor's. A silvery hawk burst from the tip and swooped down on the Dementor's, beak open in a soundless screech and talons aimed at what would have been a face. The Dementor's drew back into the shadows of the office; the hawk flying 'back and forth' keeping them was so much easier now.

Percy then pulled Jugson away from the fire and put out the flames on Jugson's robes with a bit of water from his wand tip. ' _Repairo_ ,' he thought, mending the scorched bit of pompously - - while at the same time saying: "Everyone please calm your-selves." … However; No one seemed to listen, except for Penelope, who stood perfectly still and openly stared at Percy with unfettered… astonishment. - - Several people then broke into hysterical shrieks that Percy was going to kill them all, he was a Death Eater, he was Voldemort in disguise, etc. Percy was momentarily distracted (almost amused, truth be told) when one young witch began screaming that Percy was the next Dark Lord and planning to overthrow Voldemort and Percy found the idea comical for he was, in his own small way, attempting to overthrow Voldemort and the Ministry.

He also found it interesting to think of himself as a Dark Lord - - he was sure that not many tyrants had freckles and red hair and would insist on having his numerous 'Evil Minions' correctly follow his detailed filing system - - besides; he had read in- _Prefects Who Gained Power_ \- that there were certain similar flaws and fatal mistakes the Evil Overlord- types made. He saw these mistakes being played-out day-in and day-out by the Death Eaters placed in key-positions in the Ministry. He'd seen a memo (was it just-today?) which stated that efficiency of all Ministry departments was in steep decline. It was an internal memo not for publication, and only his promotion today had allowed him to see it.

He found it interesting that now he had 'switched sides' the evidence that he had been working for really evil people seemed to just come out of the woodwork. Everywhere he looked now there was corruption and hate for Muggleborn's - - and the proof of this civil-war of genocide; was the witch that was screaming into his ear that he could never take away her freedom, at which point Percy decided that it was much more important to make sure he was not deaf than to compile a mental list of; _**Things He Would Do As an Evil Overlord**_.

"Alright, fine, go ahead and wail; like a ruddy-banshee," Percy snapped at the witch, who did so. He shot her an irritated look before taking Jugson's wand and sweeping over to the table. "Jugson's supposed to be torturing you all anyway." This declaration actually doubled the wails as someone misheard Percy and screamed loudly; that Jugson was going to begin torturing them. This led to a very heated debate among the prisoners, that Percy mentally labeled as 'What the Hell Is Going On?' wherein no one managed to establish anything beyond the very convincing opening argument of: 'Oh God They Were All Going To Die'.

As everyone but Penny continued with hysterics, he sat quietly at the table and studied the box intently. The spell-work was needlessly complex, with each counter-spell and jinx having to be performed in exact reverse order or the person breaking the charms would be blasted out of their seat… how irritating.

"Percy!"

Penelope's voice; hearing it made Percy look-up at her - and nervously pushed his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. "Yes, ah, Miss... Clearwater? How may I be of assistance?"

She slammed her book onto the table to try and get everyone to shut up. It was a very convincing argument to end the part of the screaming match being carried out around them, though not the screaming being carried out in farther parts of the room. "Percy, what are you doing? Are you honestly going to turn us in? And if so … why did you stun that other wizard?"

Percy felt irritated. "I should think my actions were self-explanatory; Miss Clearwater. I am breaking you all out of Azkaban. Don't bother stopping the wailing. It provides a more than adequate cover and I am quite used to working with obscene amounts of background noise. I did grow up with Fred and George … after all."

"You... are?" Penelope looked shocked, uncertain and hopeful. "Honestly, Percy, you - - breaking the law?"

"I am not," Percy informed her crisply, "the laws that incarcerated you all were … 'right from the off'; not lawfully created and therefore are: null-and-void. Secondarily; so far as I know, it's criminal to send the innocent to prison." He turned his attention back to the box, trying to recall what Bill said about counter jinxes and spells. Percy put his own wand back in his sleeve and picked up Jugson's, to examine it and determine its usefulness in breaking curses. Judson's wand was much shorter than his own - and he rather disliked its greasy feel, though it seemed perfectly adequate. "Oh, _finite incantatem,_ " he said, pointing at the chains. With another flick of the wand, he made the room impenetrable.

He closed his eyes in thought and then slowly began to unravel the fine cocoon of spells surrounding the box. It was not incredibly difficult once he pinpointed which spells being employed. They were all fairly elementary and unimaginative, though they were time- consuming. Percy was quite dismayed to discover that a quarter of an hour had passed by the time he flicked the box open. He suddenly felt oddly enervated and weak, and still a-tad nauseated from when Jugson had noticed Penelope. Then abruptly; he became aware of a change in the people around him. He glanced around and noticed that the hysterics had died down to a few muffled sobs from the most distraught of the prisoners; everyone else appeared to be quietly focused on him.

"Try standing on the table," Penelope suggested. "Everyone will see and hear you." She was smiling at him and Percy tried to smile in return; he was out of practice, however, and found that it was oddly difficult.

"It's alright." He raised his voice and stood, awkwardly moving back his chair. "Please form an orderly queue to get your wands; they are on the table here. Once you receive them, go over to the window- I shall open it and then levitate you down to ground level. If you cannot do it yourself – I will help you, once outside the Castle - - Apparate away quickly. You cannot Apparate or Dis-Apparate inside this building and do ' _Be careful'_. Please limit your outside contacts to immediate family as fully Muggle family members should be relatively safe from arrest. I suggest that you gather anyone (spouses and children) that are Muggleborn's like yourselves and go into hiding in another country, because, if just one of you is found, I believe I shall be executed for what I'm doing." He thought up of a joke and bleakly added, "I am somewhat attached to living. Ahaha."

There were a couple of weak laughs in return

Unexpectedly, Penelope took Percy's hand and pulled him aside. Percy glanced down at their hands and noticed the raw, reddish welt around Penelope's wrists. "When did you get those?" he asked.

"From the handcuffs," Penelope looked at him searchingly, curiously, her hand still in his. As she peered up at him, Percy suddenly realized how tall he was. It was an odd sort of revelation and he further realized that he had worn himself out, doing this. Ordinarily he would not have thought of something so stupid.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Isn't it enough that I am?" Percy asked uncertainly.

"Ends and means are equally important."

"Very well", Percy said as he cleared his throat, the back of his neck very red. - - "I, er- Ididitforyounowpleaselet'sdropitandmoveon." - - He made an effort to break free of Penelope and go over and see to the wand distribution, but she wouldn't let him go. Penelope had somehow grown a great deal stronger in the years Percy hadn't seen her. St. Mungo's must have very determined patients who disliked being held down for treatment. She looked surprised as he did, though, when she spoke. "You did, Percy?"

"And because it was the right thing to do," Percy added on quickly, having just come to the realization himself. With an effort Percy forced himself to say, however stiffly, "It is sometimes permissible to break the law if the law was broken to begin with."

Penelope stared at him in mild-shock.

Percy felt the need to explain himself: "The laws… aren't working anymore. Every day I read through new executive orders pretending to be laws that are clearly contradict by the old, existing statues. The Thicknesse government is ruling by decree, which is unlawful, deliberately going around or just ignoring the Wizengamot role in law making. There's one law written back in 1789 (still in force) - influenced by French laws and their Muggle counterparts, no doubt- that explicitly states that there should be no distinction between Muggleborn witches and wizards and witches and wizards that were born into pureblooded families. It's in section one - clause two … sub-clause 'E' -"

Percy broke off to see everyone staring at him still. In his best Head Boy tones he then declared: "Have your wands?" - And everyone nodded. "Good… Now please form an orderly queue by the window." He was not entirely sure whether to feel offended or not when someone asked what he wanted in return. He glared at them from behind his glasses and they all wore the vague, guilty, confused look of prisoners set free. They really didn't know what to do.

"As I would prefer not to die," Percy continued, in a tone as no-nonsensical as possible. "Please do follow instruction, jump up on the window sill and levitate down, remember; little to no communication with the outside world, go into hiding immediately. Try heading to the French Ministry or the magical American Ministry; you'll find them both here in London. I read a memo today stating that they will be issuing official statements against the British Ministry tomorrow, so you all will be safe there. If you can't Apparate please ask someone who can to help you - - and thank you all for your cooperation."

Penelope was the last to leave. Percy was in a minor panic because he had five minutes before Macnair would come back in - five minutes to clean up and modify Jugson's memory and get back to the Ministry and look like he'd been busy at his desk filing paperwork or setting fire to badly written memos for the past half-hour instead of breaking the law and imperiling his own life - - and he felt he ought to say something to Penelope but he didn't know _what_.

"You really haven't changed as much as most people think you did," Penelope said softly, before standing on the tips of her shoes and kissing him on the cheek.

Percy took her free hand (Penny grasped her wand so tightly in her other that Percy was quite sure it could meld with her skin). "I realize this is probably the worst possible time, but you know I'm not… good at this… sort of thing, as I suppose you know, so, ah… if I don't die a horrible death tomorrow or - or something, which seemed just yesterday to be a-tad farfetched…."

"Why farfetched? Are you planning on doing this again?"

Percy flushed. "In a different way, maybe."

Penelope smiled at him again and Percy suddenly felt happy for the first time in ages. "Take the book I left on the table. My flat numbers on the inside cover. You may find some books to help you there."

This really hadn't been the way he wanted this conversation to go. "Er, Penelope-"

"You can call me Penny again, Percy. I'll be in France, it's the best place for me - _after all_ \- it's my mother's native language" She pressed her fingertips to his lips when he tried to speak again. "I know, no contact, I'll be careful. I'll get someone in the French Ministry to contact mum. Good bye Percy and good luck. You're wonderfully brave." She replaced her fingertips with her lips for one all-too-brief moment that brought up memories of abandoned classrooms before she disappeared out the window.

Percy decided to kick one of the chairs over to express his general frustration with the world in general. He'd just meant to ask her to keep him in mind while she was hiding in France, while he was risking his life… and his limbs; his sanity. And (oh dear oh dear oh dear) his career.

Really, asking her if they could get back together again was not such a terrible request. But no, he was probably doomed to a loveless life bereft of snogging (which Penelope had quite convinced him that he liked, back at the beginning of his fifth year), except for a Dementor's Kiss when the Ministry caught up with him for his current spate of rule breaking. He then decided he might as well trash the office in the interests of verisimilitude and did so with gusto, before checking his watch, grabbing the book Penelope had left him, and hurriedly propping Jugson in a corner. He held Jugson's wand to Jugson's head and hissed, " _Obliviate!_ "

The cover-story came to him easily. "Percy Weasley left and you set about torturing the prisoners. Your disturbed mind can fill in the details. You accidentally killed all of them. Shocked that you murdered all twelve people, you transfigured the bodies into bits of broken wood and, having cast all the wands on the fire, blasted apart their box so that you would hide the evidence. You do not want the security detail to check your wand so you will go home and then practice transfiguring your teacup so that no one sees what you did with the bodies, since Weasley told you, just before he left, that he could cover everything but outright murder by you … but if you killed them you were completely on your own. Now, _enervate!_ "

Percy shoved Jugson's wand back into his hand and then dashed over to the fireplace. He grabbed far too much Floor powder out of the jar, flung it into the fireplace and hissed, "British Ministry of Magic!" He tumbled through just as Jugson rubbed his eyes and began to stand. - - And thus it came to pass, that Percy Weasley, Assistant to the Minister of Magic _himself_ , and the most highly ranking twenty-year-old in any sort of government in the wizarding world, tumbled head over heels out of the fireplace, knocking over the Head of the Department of Mysteries, who then caused a strange sort of domino effect the line of people waiting to go through the security check.

Percy had lost his glasses in his tumble and groped for them blindly.

"You alright?" Eloise Midgen whispered, walking down the line to him. At least, Percy supposed it was Eloise Midgen. All he saw was a blob.

"Getting to be so," Percy replied, giving up entirely and summoning his glasses off the floor with his wand. He picked up the book Penelope had left him and tucked it into his pocket, where it brushed against the roster of prisoners. "Do you have a minute?"

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Lights come up for it's the first of several intermissions.

End transmission


	2. Chapter 2

HP story; **the miss-Adventures of the Magical Scarlet Pimpernel**

Based on a short HP story rated K - - as crafted by Elyse3 at fan-fiction dot com called; **The Scarlet Pimpernel** \- - First published: 09-14-07 possible completion date: 11-04-08

This will be yet another in a long-line of Hollywood remakes by Billybob-csagun36

8888

Part 2

Chapter 4 – 5 – 6 - 7

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 4

In which Percy reads a novel.

Percy ended up grabbing Eloise by the arm and buying her an overpriced cuppa of tea in the Ministry cafeteria. It was crowded with people getting their afternoon tea, affording Percy and Eloise the safety and security created only by large crowds trying to extend their tea break to much longer than it should be. "She's right here," he said, showing her Martha's name on the roster of prisoners before putting the roster into his inner pocket. "She's in a low security cell. Unpleasant, but it could have been far worse."

Eloise Midgen had to stave off tears, her knuckles very white around her tea cup. Percy felt extraordinarily tired and vaguely glad that Eloise had forgotten to check his wand again.

"Why'd they arrest her?" Eloise asked. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"Most of the prisoners are innocent of any real crime and some; like Martha are most probably being; 'reeducated' into accepting the ' _ways and means_ ' of the 'current administration'," Percy said in a low whisper, without thinking. And then upon realizing what he had publicly admitted - - quickly glanced around, suddenly terrified. "Ah, what I meant to say was … that those that are un-enlighten to the new goals of the Ministry, need to be forcefully shown the errors of their ways," - - - he added, for the benefit of the wizard at a nearby table …smoking a foul looking pipe in between sips of the cheap red wine the cafeteria served. "Some employees need sterner reeducation methods than others …at least as far as they concern the upholding the waning standards of moral decency."

The wizard at the next table froze upon hearing this… which was in itself highly suspicious. Percy then remembered a memo he had read from Yaxley in law enforcement recommending the placement of snatchers in public places to deliberately overhear 'disloyal' private conversations and report them. Reminded of the error he had made Percy abruptly stood and grabbed his tea with one hand and Eloise's upper arm with the other. "Ah, are you done with your tea yet?" Percy asked, propelling Eloise out of the cafeteria. "Let's go back to my office and you can brief me there on the new security measures at Azkaban. Really, two jailers seem excessive when there are so many enemies to the Ministry running about unchecked. A single warden should be more than acquit. We have Dementor's there for a reason…."

Eloise, once more did not catch on. Looking furious, she snapped, "What on earth are… "

"I can make my office impenetrable, the cafeteria is wide-open" – he whispered. "If anyone asks what we talk about - - we're continuing our chat on the fantastic job the Ministry is doing on promoting moral standards and because I've taken a fancy to you."

"You fancy me?" Eloise asked, zeroing in, of course, on the most important part of Percy's explanation.

He sighed heavily. "Look, Eloise, do you know what an alibi is? I am giving one to you." He said rather pompously: "It's an excuse to avoid blame, and the Latin adverb meaning "in or at another place" mainly used in law proceedings, generally to clear a person of a guilty charge by virtue of the fact that they were not there at the time. It has since become a synonym for 'excuse' and in this case, is your excuse for the reason that you are coming to my office is that I cannot confess my burning adoration in public, instead of the real reason of my leaking confidential Ministry information to you. Do be quiet in and around the elevator, please."

Eloise spent the time waiting for the elevator scrutinizing her cup of tea while Percy made polite and pompous chatter with the new Head of International Games and Sports. Once they arrived in Percy's office, and Percy had cast all the charms necessary to ensure privacy, Eloise once more displayed her amazing ability to zero in on the least important matters at stake.

"So… you _don't_ fancy me then?"

Percy sat down at his desk and cleared his throat. "Eloise, you are a lovely individual, but, no. My er… girlfriend…." Percy realized this was a completely unconvincing lie and hastily added, "All right, my 'former' girlfriend … dumpedmeandIhaven'tmovedon, but that is entirely beside the point."

"You had a girlfriend once?" Eloise asked, incredulously.

"Now really," Percy said, nettled. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well …yes." She said in a matter of fact tone.

Percy fought the urge to slam his head repeatedly against his desk. "Eloise, I did not ask you up here to discuss my failed love life."

"But it's so much more pathetic than mine!" She replied. "It gives me such hope and really, I don't mind at all. Everyone feels lonely sometimes. It's perfectly okay to talk about things like this. I mean, men are very reluctant to share their feelings generally, with you Weasley's in particular - _from what I remember from school_ – that you-lot have a noticeable difficulty in verbalizing your feelings for girls. Weasley prefers to show your feelings by thousands of tiny actions with your youngest brother being the most obvious practitioner. Even from inside Hufflepuff, we could see how he felt about Granger".

"But she never returned those feelings; she overlooked him more often than not, barely acknowledged his existence really", Percy replied automatically without thinking

"Yes… I saw that too", She retorted. "We all did. Watching the Gryffindork golden-trio was our way of passing time back at school. Even Martha and I saw that Granger was focusing all her energy on Potter".

"You saw that too?" Percy said in genuine surprise.

"Sure we did", she said, "and we also knew that it was deliberate. Overlooking him the way she did. Skeeter was right about her and Potter and…"

"…They'll end up together - and my brother Ron will be crushed", Percy said.

"Like Tonks crushed your brother Charlie … driving him into exile", she said. "From what I've heard from some older school chums, Charlie also couldn't bring himself to verbalize how he felt. The signs were obvious but Tonks deliberately overlooked him. Poor Charlie's unrequited love for Tonks and what Ron feels for Granger is too similar to be mere coincidence.

We Hufflepuff's are notorious people watchers and from what we saw – we considered Charlie and Ron actions a pattern of suffering indicating a family weakness …a trait than effects all Weasley males. So I understand all the dancing around you-have been doing with expressing your feelings for me …or any girl. And I also understand why you don't want to end-up like your brothers".

"My fear is that Ron is going to be devastated when he finally buys himself a clue. And there is nothing I have been able to do so far that seems to prevent that outcome." Percy said unable to stop this outburst of candor (an action most unusual for him). "I sent him a letter once warning him, but that overture was rebuffed. However; your observations about my family have been amazingly spot-on up to this point. With the possible exception of Bill and his rather aggressive Veela, a half-human who pursued him all the way to London and then used her Veela magic to get him to marry her … the rest of my brothers don't have aggressive witches seeking marriage, so it's fair to say that we Weasley's have been most unlucky at Love."

"The twins for example …luckily for them; don't seem to need women in their lives like Ron does. But we are getting off topic here - - first thing first - - your best friend, Martha;" Percy snapped hotly, "she is in prison for no reason at all. Let us focus on that."

"Oh, well…."

"Percy took the moment to sip his now ice-cold 'earl-grey' and glance at his in-tray (which was suspiciously empty; he had the feeling most of the memo-writers were cowering in their cubicles).

Eloise fidgeted.

"Do you… have any questions for me, Eloise?" Percy asked.

"So you really don't fan-"

"…I mean about Martha!" Percy interupted her, extra sharply.

"Oh, well, then. What's going to happen to her?"

"Well, from-all the memo's I've read just this morning, Department-head level information … top-drawer secret. Martha's will be kept in prison until she … like many others too valuable to kill, finally realize that cooperating with the 'new-order' … of Pure-blood tyrants that now runs things is in their best long-term interest.

"Hopefully she will not die of depression caused by the Dementor's guards before she sees the light". Percy continued as he reached into his pocket for the roster and touched the book Penelope had left him instead. He pulled it out and scanned the back cover before becoming lost in thought. "You ought to stay on Floo detail, Eloise."

"Why?" Eloise asked, turning back to the subject that so fascinated her. "Is it because you fancy… "

"…No, it's because I've got a cunning plan to free your friend among others, by … pray tell me, why are you still looking at me like that; Miss Midgen? Were you even listening to anything I've said beyond the unwanted discussion of my admittedly pathetic love life?"

"Well …yes, I do like chatting about that", Eloise said happily. "It's really sad how you Weasley's are horrible with women. Your brother Charlie was just the forerunner to what happens to a Weasley who feels unrequited love for a girl who loves someone else. You're now suffering from unrequited love for an ex-girlfriend who dumped you… years ago - - tell-me, did she fancy someone better than you?"

"My family's disastrous love life is once again … _irrelevant_!" Percy snapped, turning rather red. "Eloise, I appreciate your interests in my personal problems/concerns, but, really, I must insist…."

"Well," Eloise said reasonably. "You ought to explain to me, why … I should 'put-in' for Floo detail. I can't think of any reason why you would … except that you fancy me a-little and are too afraid to say it which seems really-really …more likely – actually".

"What?" - Percy said gob-smacked by her single-mindedness

"Look, I know you-lot (Weasley's), are horrible with verbalizing feelings … all of your family does. It's alright to embrace your feelings some times, Percy. You always were a bit of a stuff-shirt and stodgy Head Boy, you know. You must have been watching me from a distance for a long time before you found the courage today to speak to… "

"…Oh alright-then… fine … yes, it's because I fancy you and I'm afraid of expressing verbally my feelings," Percy nearly snarled… "Are you Happy now?"

"Oh-yes… very," Eloise sighed; "and you want to see me each day as you come into work-" _Percy at that moment decided that he was going to stick to Apparateing into his office each day_ " - - - and as you leave. That's really sweet of you, Percy."

"Ahaha," Percy replied bleakly. "I do try."

"When should we go out to dinner, then? I know this really cute - -"

"Er, you see, that's the problem," Percy interrupted. "I – well - - - I'm… running the Ministry of Magic at the moment. Most days I… actually don't have time to eat-out." (Sadly, it was true).

"So those are the only times you can see me - oh." Eloise's friendly face beamed at him.

Percy allowed himself the comfort of briefly planting his forehead onto his desk blotter and not moving afterwards. "Yes, your spot-on of course, my family is rather hopeless at the romance business … I'm just another Weasley victim of being burned by unrequited love - and the experience has made me reluctant to try again."

"You want to go slowly. Aren't you clever?" Eloise said smiling.

"Mmph."

"This is a good first step; if you can move on after such a terrible heartbreak by acknowledging your need to have a girl in your life", Eloise said kindly.

"Mmm."

"I'll go see about the transfer then. Can you make sure of… "

"…Yes," Percy interrupted quickly, lifting his head with the sudden light of hope. "Of course, and you'll be there each time I come back from my… tasks outside the ministry. Like when Dolores has me checking on the prisoners to Azkaban and other errands related to my official duties".

"Of course," Eloise said, still kindly. "I mean, I don't really fancy you all that much, you are what …four years older than me? Still you're not hard to look at, even with the old-man glasses and that silly fez you wear in to work-"

"Fezes," Percy replied coolly, "and they are considered very fashionable."

"- - thank goodness you don't wear it 'round the Ministry, people would openly laugh at you and I mean, I should take into consideration that you do ' _like'_ me … so I'm sure … I can 'eventually' learn to like you back - - and I do feel sorry for you, so why not?"

" _You_ are dating _me_ … out of _**pity**_?" Percy demanded. He, _Assistant to the Minister of Magic himself_ , the most high-ranking wizard under the age of twenty-one in _Europe_ and possibly the entire wizarding world, with a record amount of N.E.W.T.s that surpassed even his brother Bill's, twelve O.W.L.s, for which he had to use a _time turner_ and got express permission from the entire Ministry of Magic, former Head Boy and Prefect - - - was now reduced to getting a pity relationship from Eloise Midgen, a plain-featured and somewhat cubby - dimwitted witch whose only previous claim to fame was that she once hexed her nose off because her acne was so severe?

"Pretty much," Eloise informed him happily. "I am sorry about it, but that's the way it is and as a 'Puff' … I always thought truth's much better than anything else. But I could grow to care for you, I'm sure … in time"

Percy, suffering from this bitter blow to his pride, rubbed his temples and told himself that: ' _death wasn't really so bad, was it? - - See, worse things than death exist, so he really shouldn't be so worried about helping Muggleborn's escape the country. It was actually a very brave thing to do - an honorable, upright thing … leading very quickly to death, yes, but still more or less a good idea'._

"Right! … So I'll go now, shall I? See you in a-bit … eh?" Eloise said as stood and moved toward the door where she blew an air kiss at him and Percy managed a weak grin.

As soon as Eloise waltzed happily out the door (forgetting to shut it), Percy groaned and hit his head against the desk several times. It was not particularly productive, but he hit himself softly enough that it didn't hurt.

The book! Yes, lose him-self in reading. Good plan.

The book happened to be _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ and, Percy remembered, one of Penelope's particular favorites.

The book took place during the Muggle French Revolution, which Percy knew about only because Penny's mother was extremely enthusiastic about it. As far as he could remember it, the French Revolution had started out as a popular uprising against an ineffective government that had driven the country into the ground and promoted unequal representation by letting a minority of nobles rule with very little interference from the other 98 percent of the population.

There was a magical equivalent, in England today; Percy suddenly realized. A group of young students, who had daringly used time turners to attend both the muggle college of Louis-le-Grand and the daringly new, Muggle Enlightenment-affected Beauxbatons, had begun a campaign for equality among all witches and wizards and an end the long established - _**Statue of Secrecy**_. They and all the other working-class witches and wizards, who couldn't afford Beauxbatons, rose in an open revolt against the pureblooded echelons ruling France and managed to establish a new, daringly republican government.

As far as Percy understood, the Muggles had set up a republic too, several years later than their wizarding counterparts, and those Muggles had come into much more opposition than the wizards had. In the wizarding world, governments generally left each other alone, with polite, formal meetings to give each other just enough information to keep from global warfare. One country's government did not generally meddle with another's.

The Muggle world seemed to be more connected, which had baffled Percy quite a bit when Penny had tried to explain the concept of 'European History'. Instead of sending polite letters noting the new change in government, the other countries had gotten very edgy and (in Percy's opinion) completely overreacted by going to war with France.

Then, of course, the situation in France had gotten horrifically bad - the country was still bankrupt from the previous government, most of Europe was at war with them, the people were still starving (they had been before), Percy remembered belatedly. Most of the riots and things leading up to the big overthrow of the government had happened because the peasants were starving and couldn't afford bread, they had no way to pay to defend their country, all their nobly-born military officers had fled, and spies were everywhere - making the leaders and the people panic.

Percy generally supposed that this was why it was called 'the Terror', but Mrs. Clearwater would just look at him sorrowfully and shake her head when he expressed such an opinion.

Percy then flipped open the book to the title page and stared at Penny's neat, precise handwriting on the bookplate. Just under her address she had written, 'Rife with historical inaccuracies with a thoroughly royalist bent, but generally a wonderful novel and my favorite book from when I turned twelve, which is very old thing indeed. I wish I could meet the Baronet Sir Percy Blakeney.'

Intrigued at Penelope's apparent girlhood wish to meet someone named 'Percy' - - and a book-character that could have well inspired her teenage fancy for a Weasley with the same name. This thought was very depressing, but a suddenly saddened Percy opened the book and began reading.

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It was a good book, albeit a little girly, but since the main character happened to be French, but Percy grudgingly accepted it. The story revolved around a French stage-actress, a pretty, proud, clever, charming, and entirely unobservant woman named Marguerite. She was the wife of Sir Percy Blakeney, a- 'baronet' …which Percy had to look up in his dictionary since there were no titles in the wizarding world; all he got was that it was some sort of non-hereditary rank of the nobility.

Percy was rather disappointed by his fictional namesake at first. Sir Percy was a rather stupid fop who was one of the idle-rich, totally unproductive, and incredibly inane. Marguerite had married him on the grounds that she thought that there was more to him than the rich fop (he was extremely courteous and good-natured, after all), but it became very evident that Marguerite, though hailed as rather intelligent, had appallingly bad judgment when it came to men. Aside from being stuck in a horrible marriage, she had another past bad judgment to haunt her; she had turned some Marquis and his family into the government and this had apparently earned her the enmity of the remaining French nobility.

Percy, personally, couldn't see what all the other Frenchie's were fussing about. Marguerite had clearly done her duty to her country, and Percy similarly could not understand Marguerite's horror when a French Ministry member asked her to help find some bloke named - 'the Scarlet Pimpernel' - who, with the help of something called the: - ' _League of the Scarlet Pimpernel_ ' - kept mucking up the legal proceedings by disguising themselves and freeing prisoners lawfully convicted by the state. Surely it was her civic duty to turn him in.

But apparently the Terror had gotten so out of hand that the people the government were now arresting … were 'more-and-more' often innocent of any serious crime. Percy suddenly remembered Stan Shunpike with horror.

The French Ministry member, Chauvelin, eventually gave Marguerite an ultimatum: help him capture this 'Scarlet Pimpernel' blighter or we kill your brother. Percy considered it very bad form to make governmental affairs so personal, but continued on with the reading.

Marguerite accepted the bargain, since she really wasn't keen on seeing her brother die, and did as commanded. By pretending to faint onto a known League member during a party, Marguerite managed to discover that the Scarlet Pimpernel planned to be in a certain room at midnight and further, who he planned to spring from jail next and when he planned to do it.

After that, Chauvelin went to wait in the room (a quarter to midnight it was empty but for a snoring Sir Percy) and Marguerite went home to have a long overdue chat with her husband about how she really wished he wasn't so useless and why they hated each other. Sir Percy turned out not to have a room temperature IQ after all and just turned out to be very quiet and reserved and proud- without much intelligence, true, but he wasn't the idiot Percy Weasley had disliked at first.

The source of their marital problems turned out to be Marguerite's bad judgment and her husband's inability to communicate his feelings of disappointment in his wife being responsible for the execution of a family of nobles, (just as the modern Percy had suspected). Sir Percy had naturally gotten very upset with Marguerite when he had learned that she had denounced the Marquis into the government with her testimony directly leading to their execution.

Marguerite had steadfast refused to explain her actions on the ground that ( **a)**. If Sir Percy loved her, they shouldn't matter and ( **b)**. She had thought she was doing the right thing at the time. (Although she did later realize that it wasn't the right thing after all, since the Marquis's entire family got their heads chopped off).

Baronet Blakeney apparently was not very good at verbalizing his feelings to women (which sounded like a very familiar problem to Percy). The Baronet had never bothered to tell her before that the reason he seemed to no longer love her and had not thought to ask again why she had turned in that family, why she did what she had done. Later during a heated argument the excuse had finally come-out …revenge – on the Marquis who had once arranged for Marguerite's brother to be severely beaten … within an inch of death; but her brother had lived … and that crime didn't justify what she had done to the Marquis and his entire family.

Unable to bear the thought of being married to a wife so cold-blooded… the Baronet made an empty gesture and the two parted company with Marguerite believing the two had somehow made up. In actuality Sir Percy was going off on his most dangerous mission of all …to rescue Marguerite's brother, who was presumably in prison facing execution.

Marguerite then wandered around the house, wondering why her husband appeared to be stupid when he actually wasn't. The answer came rather quickly when she found a ring with a scarlet pimpernel on it- her dolt of a husband was actually the Scarlet Pimpernel! Realizing 'at last' that the complete failure of his love life had driven her husband to feats of derring-do and life-threatening danger had a profound effect on Marguerite. He had just been pretending to be a 'developmentally disabled' flop - - just to fool everyone into thinking that he, 'that idiot' Sir Percy, could never be the Scarlet Pimpernel.

This ruse had appeared to work out so well that even his wife had bought into it. Sir Percy's undoing was when he got a bit overexcited at the thought that his wife might still love him and ended up dropping secret rings everywhere. It really was all the forgetting of the 'little-details', that had been the reason for his secret to be exposed - - Percy thought irritably, before returning to the book and reading on.

Marguerite then dashed off to France, after having already unwittingly turned over the Scarlet Pimpernel identity to Chauvelin and now that she knew the truth really didn't want her husband to get captured and killed. Chauvelin surprised Sir Percy in an inn where they both ate dinner for a bit and Marguerite, hiding behind the curtains, wondered why the hell they were sitting there so calmly. Sir Percy Blakeney, however, made what Percy Weasley considered to be a very clever escape.

Sir Percy dumped the contents of a pepper mill into his snuff box and politely offered some to Chauvelin, whom Percy had noticed had a habit of taking snuff whenever he got the chance. Chauvelin, rendered immobile by sneezing, could thus do nothing as Sir Percy snuck out and rescued his prisoners. Chauvelin of course; set out to follow Sir Percy, with Marguerite following Chauvelin in the hopes that she could ruin any sort of silent assault on the Pimpernel's hiding place by screaming loudly, which she did. Of course she was then taking prisoner and tied up with an old Jewish cart driver whose carts had been stolen by Chauvelin - - (without the proper requisition forms… how utterly Dreadful!).

Then, completely furious that Marguerite had ruined the attack, Chauvelin abandoned her and the cart driver on a cliff-side. Percy personally thought that was a- _tad_ irresponsible, but personnel probably couldn't be spared and Muggles didn't have magic to make people stay put. All hope seemed lost when- _**ta da**_!- the cart driver pulled off his wig and was none other than Sir Percy himself! Sir Percy and Marguerite made up and walked off into the sunset together… the end.

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Percy closed the book thoughtfully. A bit sappy, but amusingly so, and an overall enjoyable way to pass what remained of the afternoon before he went home. Besides which, Sir Percy turned out to be an intriguing character. Percy himself quite appreciated Sir Percy's quiet attention to details (the snuff!) and had to credit the wisdom of covering one's tracks so completely that absolutely no one would have guessed it was him if he didn't go about dropping rings all over the place.

Besides which, it was a remarkably clever idea, creating an alter ego so wildly different from one's true self, creating a larger-than-life figure to hide behind.

"Oi, Percy!" Dolores Umbridge exclaimed, knocking on the doorframe. "Are you busy?"

Percy put the book into his desk drawer and straightened his glasses; "Not at all Dolores! Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Would you be so kind as to send the summons for those nasty little Mudblood's who haven't reported in for questioning?"

Thinking very quickly, Percy assumed a very dignified air and replied, "But of course. You know, I feel worlds better after today- would you think it an undue liberty if I asked if I could help more with this unfortunate Muggleborn situation?"

Dolores's smile seemed to split her fat, flabby face. "Percy, I have been- ' _waiting_ and _waiting'_ -for you to say something like this. I am _so pleased_ to hear of your interest."

"We all must do our part to let the right side prevail in this war," Percy said, most carefully.

"Indeed we must! I assume you wish to work administratively in this area?"

"Well… I had hoped to reprise my role today. There is something so cheering in seeing all those unworthy wandless members of society receive just what they deserve at the hands of the ministry!" Percy found that he was quite good at doublespeak and couldn't help looking pleased at how easily it came to him.

It was fortunately misinterpreted. "But of course, Percy! I really don't think the Minister can spare you to do something as mundane as escorting prisoners every day, but perhaps you can inspect Azkaban from time to time."

"I should be delighted at such an opportunity," said Percy, very seriously.

"I am so glad you think so," Umbridge simpered, flicking her wand and causing a small stack of paperwork to float onto Percy's desk. "See you tomorrow, Percy."

Percy nodded and turned to the paperwork, flicking through the parchment summons. It would really be just _so easy_ to charm each one so that only the name of the person summoned need be changed. Percy set to work on the charm, quite happy in the secretarial spells he so lovingly developed before realizing that he now had a very definite chance to save several more innocent people from Azkaban. Percy quietly altered the dates (instead of being summoned tomorrow, Friday, Percy changed it to a Monday) and set his wand down. He then very carefully pulled out a quill from his shirt pocket and several pieces of parchment from his desk drawer. After several attempts at altering his own handwriting, Percy eventually came up a charm that changed his handwriting into something that looked like some odd combination of shorthand and the type-face of _The Daily Prophet_.

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In scarlet ink, he wrote:

' _You will be arrested as soon as you appear at the Ministry. Once in court you will be automatically convicted for being a Muggleborn… which is now a capital crime in the UK punishable by imprisonment or Death. Flee the country with your family as soon as you can. Tell no one._

 _Your friend at the Ministry,_ \- and after a moment's additional thought, Percy added on underneath,

' _The Scarlet Pimpernel'._

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He sealed each bit of paper with red wax and a stamp he'd charmed to look like a scarlet pimpernel, tucked it inside the folded up summons, and sealed said summons with purple wax and the Ministry seal. As he stacked up all the messages to head off to the Ministry Owlery Percy felt a sudden onrush of fatigue and loneliness.

The Scarlet Pimpernel in the book had a League. He had… what exactly? An owl and several rather clever secretarial spells… so what? He also had Eloise, unfortunately, but she is not the sort of undercover associate who would actually understand his plans. Thinking it out logically… I mean really, who did he know that would want to risk their lives in such a blatantly suicidal mission? The answer came very quickly and Percy scrawled out a note for Hermes to take regarding possibly meeting up for a drink Friday evening. He sealed it with red wax and on the front wrote; - 'To Oliver Wood'.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 5

In which Percy and Oliver meet

Three days later found Percy walking into London's most popular wizarding sports Pub (bar) outside of _The Leaky Cauldron_ , a place called: _The Golden Snitch._ He felt extremely out of place in his pinstripes and was suddenly very glad that he had left his fez at home. It was a mistake to come; it was a mistake to even think of involving Oliver….

'But _the Ministry was going down-hill fast_ ', he thought to himself; just that morning - Percy had seen someone lying on the floor in the center of the Atrium. The poor bloke had been foaming at the mouth and twitching as if in an epileptic fit and yet no one dared to help him. A uniformed security guard stood over the twitching man and everyone who passed by felt compelled to ignore the man. Percy had cautiously asked Umbridge about it later that same mourning, on the grounds that the twitching wizard interfered with the proper flow of foot traffic and probably violated several safety and sanitary codes which Percy had pretended to know, with Umbridge only having this to say about the outrage; "His public punishment was done in the Atrium as a 'learning moment' warning to others. His crime had been very serious indeed, for he had married a Mudblood."

Hearing this Percy had quickly thought of a few sanitation codes violations that he could use to rescue the man and he quickly returned to the atrium, but when Percy got there the twitching man and his guard were both gone. When Percy inquired about it; he was told that the guard had been a-tad overzealous and the man had died with _**Magical Maintenance**_ called in to drag his corpse away.

Death Eaters running things was a frightening thing in itself, especially when there appeared to be no limits on the atrocities they could commit in public? Unlawful torture of a wizard denied legal due-process was horrid. Worse still and later that same day and still shaken by what he had seen in the atrium - - a report made its way across his desk about the occupants of Azkaban, and Percy quickly realized that a growing number of them were being incarcerated without even a sham trial and for no legal reason at all, beyond apposing Voldemort in the last Death-Eater uprising. After Percy did a little investigation; he realized what executive ordered; 'new crime' that they all had in common and the answer was chilling, they were all considered blood-traitors.

Then he noticed something else; all Muggleborn's now in Azkaban had their sentences changed from life imprisonment (again unlawfully) by the personal order of Minister Pius Thicknesse. In an effort to elevate serious overcrowding issues at the prison, All Muggleborn's were to be put to death by Dementor's kiss with their death sentence carried out the moment the proper bureaucratic forms were filled out.

Naturally, Umbridge had assigned Percy to carry-out this minor administrative task. It was the first piece of work that Percy had deliberately left uncompleted… I mean …Ever! Percy left for the weekend without any intention to coming back to finish an order for mass executions and worse, oh God, to put his name on it … to authorize murder. Percy went straight from his office to the pub where he found Oliver Wood, keeper for Puddlemere United seated at the bar, still in his Quidditch robes (Percy doubted if Oliver ever took them off) and before he approached his only friend Percy looked around the pub very carefully looking for snatcher eavesdroppers.

"Hello Oliver," Percy said, awkwardly taking a seat in the bar.

"Are you really Percy Weasley?" Oliver asked in an amused tone. "Quick, what did I do the night my greatest ambitions at Hogwarts were realized?"

"You cried for an hour straight and then went to sleep holding the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup."

Oliver nodded. "Right, your turn."

"Er, alright. On our first day on the train, what did we both get violently sick on?"

"Some Cockroach Clusters one of the Slytherin prefects gave us. We thought it was peanut brittle."

Percy smiled. "Good to see you again Oliver."

"Have to say," Oliver said thoughtfully, looking at Percy over a glass of Fire-whiskey, "I was surprised to get your owl. We… haven't really talked or anything in two years."

"Well… we are still friends, aren't we?" Percy asked, hearing the defensive tone in his voice and hating it.

"Yes," Oliver said, albeit dubiously. "Do you want anything?"

"Er, I'll take a gillywater." Percy adjusted his glasses. "You alright?"

"Yes. You?"

"Oh, fine."

There was a pause as the bartender slid Percy's drink to him.

"I've been reading up on Quidditch," Percy added on anxiously. "Congratulations on your last match. I'm told you perfected the… the Double Eight Loop, to the extent that you saved the Quaffle even after that… move where the Beaters hit the same Bludger at the same time. The Dopplebeater Defense."

Oliver's face lit up immediately. "Why yes! But you know, it's really all down to balance on the broomstick. You see, the problem with most Keepers is that they keep wanting to go to Starfish with Stick- you know, where you block the most goals by hanging off their broom with one hand and one foot, but it's damn tricky to get out of that and maneuver around the pitch. So what you really have to do is make sure that you're balanced enough so that your hands are free at all times- - -"

Oliver continued on, extremely happily; while Percy listened with growing relief. As loathe as he was to admit it, Oliver was probably the only friend he ever had. Both of them bored everyone else around them to tears (or a badly faked suicide – by Percy's twin brothers) by their ability to ramble endlessly on their particular areas of interest. In their first year they had easily figured out a system where they would take turns; while one of them was rambling, the other would be listening and occasionally, if they could actually follow the other person's tirade, interject appropriate and on topic questions. Generally, Percy asked questions and Oliver would get a somewhat ' _glassy-eyed_ ' stare and ask about homework he didn't understand.

Before Oliver got too deeply into the topic of how one had to adjust to the natural imbalances in brooms (except for the Firebolt and he'd give his right arm for one of those but Puddlemere United was always underfunded), two intimidated young witches interrupted them.

"Oh ex-excuse us," one of them, being pushed forward by her friend, stammered. "Are-are you **the** …Oliver Wood? …Of Puddlemere United fame?"

"Why, yes I am. A pleasure, ladies", Oliver grinned and even Percy managed a small amused smile.

The girl barely contained her shriek and rounded on her friend. "I told you Susan! I told you!"

Susan stepped forward and breathlessly blurted out, "Ohmigosh, we have posters of you all over our dorm in Hufflepuff and I heard you were in Gryffindor but that's really okay the Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindor's have always gotten along well and do you have a girlfriend?"

Oliver looked thoughtful. "Actually, I'm not sure at the moment."

"R-really?" the first girl said, looking like she was about to wet herself in excitement. Despite himself Percy found himself grinning. He turned on his pub-stool to watch how Oliver handled his fan-girls.

"No. I was going with a Healer, but she was Muggleborn and I… really don't know what happened to her."

Percy's smile faded slightly. "A… Muggleborn Healer?"

"Yeah… I think she dumped me, but I'm not quite sure."

"I would never dump you!" Susan cried passionately.

"Glad to hear it," Oliver said pleasantly before turning back to Percy. "I mean, it started off really well. She was in Ravenclaw a year below us… I'm sure you know who I'm thinking of - - she was a Prefect for Ravenclaw… yeah a Prefect - and followed Quidditch pretty closely as I recall. Once I turned professional I was always ending up in St. Mungo's with minor injuries and she made damn-sure that she'd be the one to look after me. So the moment I determined that she was single… I asked her out to dinner and for a bit and _I_ thought things were going really-well. She said she liked listening to me talk about Quidditch. Fantastic listener, she was. We dated for a-bit and she came to all my games, you know, even the ones when I just sat on the benches." Oliver looked rather proud of this.

"But then all of a sudden she disappeared on me without a trace… just a few weeks ago too, which I'm sort-of fine with; as my ability to stay loyal to a single bird has never been my strongest quality. Normally any bird I'm with …finds out I double-dealing her with another bird and dumps me cold, but this time was different - - my healer and me last dinner-date was a ruddy disaster. We started rowing over politics, which as you well-know is a taboo subject with me. I don't really give a rat's arse 'who' runs the bloody Ministry and I told her that which is when she got pretty shirty (angry) with me."

"About what in partcular?" Percy asked, automatically. He'd been talking with Oliver so long that his questions and attentive look were automatic. Inwardly, Percy felt horrible. A Muggleborn Healer… well, there were plenty of Muggleborn Healers around and Penny certainly couldn't be the only supportive, good listener. Granted, there really was no one who could listen better than Penelope. She focused her whole self on just being there, listening to you speak. And then there was the way she smiled, as if she'd rather not do anything else but just sit and listen….

"Er, well, truth be told, talking politics was just an excuse, the real argument was always over the- ' _three date rule'_. We were on our fourth date you see and I kept pressing her about when she was going to ride my broomstick-"

Percy inhaled his glass of gillywater and just as quickly exhaled it all over the surface of the bar. "Your… _what?_ "

"Well, she said 'no'."

The girls listening in 'aw'ed at him and began indignantly declaring their willingness to take-turns riding his broom whenever and wherever Oliver wanted - - a joint declaration which pleased Oliver immensely while mortifying Percy. The girls went on to say that this unknown Healer ex-girlfriend was a horrible, despicable woman who didn't deserve Oliver.

"Er, thanks," Oliver said. "Do you want my autograph?"

The girls rushed off and returned with several cocktail napkins and an ink-less quill. Oliver looked at Percy with a raised eyebrow and Percy, still coughing a little, searched his pockets until he pulled out several quills and a bottle of ink. Disappointed at getting no more than a pair of autographs, the girls left.

"You… alright there, Percy?"

Percy managed to catch his breath and wheezed, "Yes, yes, quite so. Just to clarify. You-you asked 'this healer' to do what, exactly?"

"I wanted her to take a midnight ride on my broomstick," Oliver said, just as imperturbably as before. "I'd gotten it as a tip from our Seeker. 'Nothing is more romantic,' said he, 'than flying around on the pitch late at night, just you and her and the stars.'"

"Oh," Percy said weakly. "Did-did you ever explain that the broomstick you wanted her to ride was a 'Quidditch broom' made out of wood?"

"Well… I never got the _chance_ , you see. Whenever I mentioned the ride on my broomstick; she got this horribly closed off look and said, 'No, Oliver, I haven't known you long enough… **for that** ' which is bizarre because she's seen me on a broom dozens of times and she had to know that I wouldn't drop her."

Percy took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Er, Oliver. There's something called a euphemism. Have you ever heard of the term?"

"Euphemism?" Oliver repeated, looking frankly puzzled.

"Yes. It's the substitution of an agreeable or inoffensive expression for one that may offend or suggest something unpleasant to the listener, from the Greek _euphemismos_ , directly translated as 'use of a favorable word in place of an inauspicious one' from _euphemizein_ , as translated to 'speak with fair words' from _eu_ , or 'good', and _pheme_ , or 'speaking', which is from _phanai_ , or 'speak'."

Oliver stared at him blankly. "What does it have to do with broomsticks?"

"Oliver," Percy protested, very much pained. "The- _three date rule_ -means one thing to you and something very different to most girls". And when Oliver looked at his in a state of great confusion, Percy explained further. "You were once a teenage boy. You grew up in a wizarding family. If Iknow what the euphemism means, surely you do too." At Oliver's continued blank expression, Percy shoved his glasses on and sighed. "Oliver, some things have two meanings. So let us use our brains and _think very hard_ about this. If you and she were alone in her flat; on the couch… lights low and you asked the witch if she'd like to ride your broomstick…."

"If she'd… oh!" Oliver said looking suddenly dumbstruck. "She thought I was asking… for a shag?" His voice cracked a bit at the end of his question."

Percy, very pink, nodded tersely. " _Yes_ , Oliver. The required third date shag"

"Ok." Then: "Well no wonder she was so tetchy when I kept asking. I suppose it also makes more sense now that she kept saying, 'No means no, Oliver' and then dumped a flagon of pumpkin juice on my head."

"Quite." Percy felt moderately better.

"Percy, one question though."

"Yes?"

"How on earth 'did you' of all people; know something like that?"

Percy was silent for a moment. "You know Oliver, I'm not entirely sure. I blame it on having five brothers, one of whom was the formerly a huge womanizer …Bill."

Oliver grinned and they fell into a comfortable silence. Feeling secure enough to think Penny was safe (for the moment) and he still stood some chance of winning her back, Percy asked, "What was her name?"

"Penelope Clearwater," Oliver said promptly.

Percy suddenly paled and covered his instant discomfort by sipping at his gillywater. ' _I have to remember that Oliver is just an average wizard and not the brightest torch in the dungeon. He was an indifferent student at best, a-tad self-centered that often overlooking the little details of the world around him. He didn't pay attention to much outside of the 'Pitch' the best example being while making potions which lead to more than one explosion'._

' _Truth-be-told; Oliver was far more popular with women than most Weasley's; Percy included, but never felt the urge to hook-up with just one. Oliver had 'one and only one' passion in his life and he'd never recognized or for that matter acknowledge on any level any girl unless they were somehow 'involved' in Quidditch_ ', Percy said to himself.

' _Of course he wouldn't connect a post-Hogwarts Penny, with his best mate - - or that she had been my one and only Hogwarts girlfriend (and, quite possibly, the love of my life) with the professional healer Penelope Clearwater, the Muggleborn who was a great listener, but even then she wouldn't have caught Oliver's attention had she not also been a-_ _ **avid fan**_ _-of professional Quidditch'_.

' _Oliver was so fixated on Quidditch I'd wager he doesn't even remember the names of anyone else in their year. Come to think on it_ ' … Percy was genuinely surprised that Oliver ' _still recognized_ _him'._

"Oi, you work in the Ministry, don't you?" Oliver exclaimed.

"Assistant to the Minister," Percy interjected automatically.

"Then you'd definitely know where I can find Penelope."

Percy looked around the bar uneasily. This was an extremely good opening, but he hadn't quite wanted it to come just yet. He still felt horrifically edgy from work at the Ministry that day. Everyone with a brain had to definitely suspect that something was- ' **off** ' -when the only Muggleborn's in the dungeons had been picked-out by the amateur's criminals and roughly searched of a few quick Galleons. "Yes, er… about that, - - I can get thrown in Azkaban for telling you this - - but, er…." He lowered his voice and leaned forward. Oliver leaned forward as well, looking intrigued. "She's… safe - - in hiding in France … at the moment. I can't say anything else."

"Why not?"

"Because I shall get a less than friendly 'kiss' from a Dementor, if I do; so… please."

Oliver Wood stared at him hard. "How do you know this?"

"Saw to it myself," Percy whispered. "Look, you know now, so let's chat about this-bit later…if at all." The whole point of the evening had been to talk to Oliver about this, but Percy suddenly found him-self wildly terrified and highly suspicious of everyone around him. For he now knew exactly how many unnamed people (snatchers) the Ministry paid to spy on the general wizarding population. Chances were very-good that someone in the pub was listening in on their conversation and Percy, with one 'wrong word' they would-be both… in a flash - - find them-selves in shackles and thrown a prison cell - being question under Veritaserum or worse-yet (which was even more likely) face to face with a Dementor who would very happily eat their souls.

More importantly; what was he doing bringing Oliver into this mess? Percy could very well go-do something heroically stupid and throw his own life away. No one would miss him or really care that he was gone, but Oliver? Oliver was _liked_. He was an actually good person. No, Oliver was much safer not knowing and not getting involved.

Oliver kept staring. "Perce _\- you..._ "

"…This is neither the time nor the place!" Percy interrupted, as the barkeep scooted over to them. "Ah, yes, I think I shall need a napkin." Percy gestured to the bit of the bar he had baptized with his gillywater. "Thank you, sir."

"Perce, you… "

"…It's incredibly dangerous, Oliver, what I did …so don't bring it up now," Percy said very quickly and loudly enough to drown out Oliver's hissed; 'sneak people out of the country'. The barkeep was still at the other end of the bar, looking for napkins, good…. "Well, I'm famished, are you hungry? You ought to be, playing Quidditch all day. Fred and George were human rubbish bins after each practice. The amount of food they could shovel into their mouths at any given time was truly astonishing."

Oliver took the hint, albeit reluctantly, just in time for the bartender to mop up the spill with the bar rag. "How are Fred and George?"

"I really couldn't tell you. My family's cast me out… for working in the Ministry."

"But you just said you were sneaking… "

"…Well, yes I am," Percy interrupted in a soft whisper, while glancing at the bartender who wasn't far away, but not very far away, with the now gillywater- soaked bar rag, "but I'm still working in the Ministry and they don't know how I use my tea-breaks."

"Yeah, but you're taking complete strangers… "

"…Into my heart," Percy interupted loudly, as the bartender appeared just a tad too interested in their conversation. "Yes I am Oliver! For I have seen the errors of my ways and wish only to spread love, to all over the world."

Oliver stared at him again.

"Pretend I'm drunk," Percy ordered, as he downed his gillywater. "We'll Apperate someplace safer." Louder: "Yes, I heard this fantastic song the other day called: ' _A Wizard's Staff Has a Knob on the End_ ' - and in the spirit of universal brotherhood, I feel I ought to sing it."

If Oliver had not fully-understand why Percy was pretending to be drunk, he did know well-enough from long-experience, that Percy's singing voice was the stuff of nightmares. And not the strange ones with talking cabbages, but the really terrifying ones where Snape force-fed you poisons or you were hit repeatedly by a bludger in the groin so that you could never have children …or worse yet; _never play Quidditch again._ Oliver still had nightmares about Percy singing in the shower from their days at Hogwarts and woke up screaming to try and drown out the sounds in his head. He had never been so glad when he heard that Prefects had their own bathrooms at the beginning of fifth year. "You- you wouldn't really _sing_ , would you Percy?"

"Just watch me," Percy warned, shoving his glasses up his nose and taking a deep breath.

"Right, you're too drunk to be in public," Oliver exclaimed extraordinarily quickly, grabbing Percy's arm and dropping a galleon on the bar. "Let's go."

They Apparated to Oliver's four-room flat, which was littered with so-much Quidditch gear memorabilia it looked like the backrooms of Quality Quidditch Supplies. The couch even had prints of goal posts on it.

"So, what's happening?" Oliver asked, faintly puzzled.

"Just a moment," Percy said, pulling his wand out of his pocket and making the flat impenetrable to eavesdroppers. "There we are." He looked around, feeling suddenly exhausted. "You really don't want to know what I've been doing."

"Yes, I do"; Oliver said pointedly. "I might also point out that I've played Quidditch for the past four years, whereas you sat behind a desk writing memos." He flexed his arms in a vaguely threatening way that was extremely effective.

"All right. I've been secretly smuggling Muggleborn's out of the country. I've done it twice now and I don't plan to stop until they catch me."

"Why?" Oliver asked.

"I suppose I don't have anything else left to live for," Percy said philosophically. "One cannot be happy with the perfect filing system all the time, after all. My family's cast me out and I don't have a girlfriend, so…."

"So you've chosen a life of filing and incredibly dangerous subterfuge against the Ministry when you've run out of paper clips?"

Percy contemplated this a moment. "That seems to be the gist of it, yes. I must say, I am so very pleased to hear you use the word 'subterfuge' correctly. I didn't know you knew it."

"Subterfuge has to do with tactics," Oliver explained patiently. "Tactics have _everything_ to do with Quidditch. Of course I'd know it. But - Perce… really? You've been smuggling Muggleborn's out of the country?"

"After I break them out of Azkaban, yes I have. It's actually beginning to sound more dangerous now that I'm talking about it… ah, there's the blind terror kicking in, just as expected." Percy collapsed onto the couch, put his head into his hands, and suddenly thought that it would be quite horrible to die. "Oh God, I'm going to be dead by Tuesday."

"No you're not," Oliver said heartily, sitting down next to Percy. "I'm sure you'll live until Friday. They'd want you to work a full week."

"You're as good as a Cheering Charm," Percy replied with a snort. "Look- I… I had an idea on how to go about covering my tracks. If Muggleborn's keep breaking out, even the dolts I work for will get suspicious." He pulled out _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ from an inside pocket of his robe with trembling hands. "If I were to… create an… well, an alias …some sort of hero that is everything I'm not".

"Read this when you get the chance. In it, a Muggle named Sir Percy develops this other persona- the Scarlet Pimpernel- and springs innocent prisoners from jail. Oh I've gone mad, I shouldn't get you involved in this. What was I thinking?" Percy cried, utterly in torment. "Oh God, I'm going to die. I've completely jeopardized your safety by doing this. Oliver I'm so sorry-"

"Whoa, calm down Perce," Oliver said, leaning back against the couch. "take DEEP breaths."

Percy followed his advice and then shuddered. "I'm - sorry. I've been under a lot of stress recently." Bleakly: "I haven't gotten more than four or five hours of sleep a night for… oh it must be half-a-year now."

"You do seem run down," Oliver commented, meditatively. "I mean, this really doesn't strike me as something you'd do, Perce. Coming up with an alter ego named after a flower and breaking the law by breaking prisoners out of jail …when people get killed for just saying _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ real name out loud and completely going against the Ministry when it controls everything and choosing a path that leads pretty directly to death…."

"Well now you make it sound like blatant stupidity," Percy retorted, though he was too tired and anxious and dispirited to put any real venom into it.

"That's pretty much what bravery is, Perce. Now, you're on an excruciatingly dangerous, self- appointed mission that reeks of certain death and danger and that is really unlikely to lead to any other outcome but heroic death and all I can say is: _why the hell didn't_ _you didn't ask me to help_?"

Percy tried to come up with a coherent response. "Oliver, I appreciate your determination, it's always been a very dominant quality of yours, but sometimes even good people ought to draw lines between 'heroic determination' and the 'decision-making capabilities of a spastic whelk'."

"You can't go at it alone!" Oliver roared. "You'll need me to help!"

"Oliver, let us allow Mr. Brain into the decision-making process for a minute. You're not at the Ministry. Do you know what part of my job is now? Telling the Minister who has been killed and who has been arrested and then writing up an official statement to cover this unlawful act. I spent nearly six hours today compiling the list of - ' _cause of death_ '- for countless of innocent souls… the countless murders for which the Ministry is directly responsible."

"I have to take on the work of six or so employees, because I'm the only executive assistant or undersecretary to the Minister still left alive. I have to hide the fact that the government is engaged in- _ethnic cleansing_ -of its own magical population - - according to some Death Eater-like concept of blood purity. I've worked out the details of their often stated goal of- _slaughtering the Mudblood's (Muggleborn's_ ) -in large numbers. Next in line are most-likely the blood-traitors… meaning my family _?_ They might think they'll be overlooked because of their blood status … but that's childishly naïve".

"Minister Thicknesse has no grasp of the fact that the world already knows what he's doing … no concept of how the other magical governments will react to the whole scale slaughter of so many witches and wizards. Europe remembers all too well the Mudblood culling's under Gellert Grindelwald".

The French, Spaniards and the Germans will realize that when they finish with us brits …the Death Eaters will want to purgethe magical populations of the rest of the wizarding world. They won't wait around for Potter to bring down… **He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named** … they won't be sheep awaiting slaughter for a second time in sixty years".

I predict that they'll go proactive which is probably going to lead to the multi-nation magical invasion of the UK, with the goal of bring down the Thicknesse government and killing off its senior leadership… meaning me. Oh and my work increases each day because the Ministry employees are dying off. Death Eaters can kill at will now. I got the memo yesterday. Badly spelled, of course, so I sent it back, but eventually they'll find a dictionary and then we really are in horrific trouble."

"Like we aren't now?"

"You don't _get it_ , Oliver! One day you'll walk into the Ministry and someone will be lying there, dead, in the middle of the Atrium and that someone might be me. No one will do anything about it because they're so frightened. And you don't know who to trust any more or what even to think because the Ministry changes its policies so quickly and all I can really do without risking death is to ensure that when my personal doom arrives …it will be spelled correctly! Any kind of open resistance will land me in Azkaban. And as to what I've done already? The moment I'm discovered, due to one tiny misstep; will lead to a slow death without any trial or witnesses. I'll just poof, vanish someday, having been- _**Cruciatus Cursed**_ -into insanity and then casually killed … when they're done playing with me. I can't ask anyone else to take the risk."

Percy was breathing heavily by the end of his rant and he ran a hand through his neatly-parted hair. Oliver took a moment to think; quite the rare occurrence when it didn't have to do with Quidditch.

"Well," Oliver said slowly, "you're not asking me. I'm telling you I'm helping you and there isn't a bloody thing you can do to stop me. I'm determined, you know."

"You're not helping."

"You'll go crazy without me. I'll make sure of it."

"No."

"Yes."

"I-I… fine. But I'm not responsible for your death." Percy said …but he would feel so, irregardless.

"Well, we just won't die, then," Oliver said pragmatically.

"What?"

"Not dying is very easy," Oliver said, pacing. "I have frequently not been dead. Now, to continue to do this, you need the right team. To get the right team, you need the right people. Now, how did this bloke you modeled yourself on keep his cover?"

"He pretended to be an idiot. _I_ do not have that luxury."

"No, so you need to make the prime suspect someone else … someone so idiotic no one could believe it, but not so idiotic that it's a complete impossibility."

"Oliver, I think I once tried to explain to you the concept of 'impossibility' and the equally important concept of 'contradiction', but…." Percy voice slowly trailed off.

"Alright, so, let's change tactics."

"No," Percy said thoughtfully. "I think you're actually onto something. Come on, let's go."

"Who do you know," Oliver asked, "who's enough of an idiot to do this?"

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 6

In which Percy receives a letter

"Gilderoy, you have visitors again!" said the Healer in charge of the Janus Thickey ward trilled, before turning back to Oliver and Percy. "He hasn't gotten visitors in two years, you know, so sad because he's such a sweetheart, isn't he?"

Oliver appeared to be eating his fist in an attempt to keep from laughing.

"Visitors!" Gilderoy Lockhart exclaimed, beaming toothily from his bed. "Ah, and I expect you'll be wanting my autograph? Lots of people want my autograph, you know. I put it on pictures and people just write in for them. They write in for them all the time." He frowned. "I wish I knew _why_ , but since they want them on the pictures, I imagine that it's because I'm so dazzlingly handsome. On a mission from your girlfriends, boys?"

"Mmph," said Oliver, around his fist.

"Not exactly," Percy translated diplomatically. "But here, I… brought you a new quill." He rummaged through his pockets and managed to find a novelty peacock feather quill Dolores had given him for his birthday. Percy had been in the habit of carrying it around with him on the off chance that he could force the ugly thing off on someone else.

"Thank the nice man for bringing you a present, Gilderoy!" the Healer Strout gushed. "Your old quill was getting so tatty, too."

"Ah, such loving support from my fans!" Lockhart exclaimed, taking the quill and beaming with pleasure. "Just when I've completely mastered joined up writing too! They let me write letters from time to time now. People seem very happy when I write them letters, though I can't say why."

"Your astonishing good looks?" Oliver suggested, barely keeping himself from a round of hysterical laughter.

"Why, yes!" Lockhart agreed. "You must be right! Sometimes they say that I wrote books, but I don't remember ever writing books."

"They must've just meant your picture was in them and your fantastic smile told hundreds of stories." Oliver appeared to be choking on his laughter now. Percy glared at him over his glasses. Oliver had been saving up that one for years, ever since Percy had gotten irritated enough at Lockhart's forcing him to play a vampiress seduced by Lockhart's dreamy smile to rant and imitate Lockhart in the safety of their dorm room. Oliver had been quite struck with some of Percy's phrasing and Percy was quite sure he'd seen Oliver writing it down in the cover of his copy of- _**Quidditch through the Ages**_ _._

"My, you are clever," replied Lockhart. "That really does make the most sense, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Percy said diplomatically. "Now, Prof- Mr. Lockhart, we've come to read you a story."

"First thing on Saturday morning, a nice story!" - gushed the Healer, summoning them armchairs. "Lovely, isn't it Gilderoy?"

"Oh yes, it is," Gilderoy replied, beaming like a six-year-old on Christmas. "It is wonderful to have such loyal fans to wish so for my entertainment."

"Mmpf," said Oliver, apparently trying to swallow his fist to keep from laughing.

"Well, yes, of course," Percy interjected in a business-like tone, as the Healer bustled off to go tend to her other patients. "Now, this book is called _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ and I daresay that you will enjoy it."

With that, Percy, with some assistance from Oliver, who ended up liking the book immensely and having great fun acting it out (Oliver always had liked Gilderoy Lockhart's classes, now that Percy thought about it), passed the morning reading _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ to Gilderoy Lockhart.

Once he had finished, it was rather clear, though, that his master-plan of having inspired Gilderoy Lockhart by tales of derring-do needed some work.

"Sir Percy has wonderful taste in clothes!" Lockhart gushed, showing, once more, the Hufflepuff ability to zero in on important details. "I prefer lavender suits myself, but a man who knows his laces is set for life."

"Mmpf," said Oliver, around his fist.

"I am glad that you enjoyed the book," Percy replied, pulling out a new paperback copy from the inside pocket of his robe. "This is for you, Mr. Lockhart, as a present."

"For me!" Lockhart gushed. "You shouldn't have!"

"But we did," Oliver said.

Percy handed over the book, thought quickly, and smiled. "I am glad you enjoyed the reading, Mr. Lockhart. Do have a pleasant day."

"You forgot the autographs for you and your girlfriends!" Lockhart exclaimed, a little peevishly, as Percy and Oliver made to leave. "Look, I wrote a message _and_ my name in joined up writing. You oughtn't to waste them."

"Mmph," said Oliver, since Percy slapped his hand over Oliver's mouth.

"Thanks, but we haven't got girlfriends," Percy translated.

"Ooooh," the head witch said knowledgably. "Come on, Gilderoy, leave them be. I'll explain later. I'm sure that they will come visit you, won't they?"

"Mmph," said Oliver.

"Yes, of course we will. Come on, Oliver." Percy steered his friend out into the corridor.

"So," Oliver muttered, "Gilderoy Lockhart is going to help us out, how?"

"I'm getting to that," Percy replied, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. "Oliver, I need you to do something… a little bizarre for me."

"What?"

Percy told him.

Oliver stared. "How do you come up with these things, Percy?"

"I use my brain. You ought to try using it for something other than Quidditch every once in a while."

Oliver sighed. "Alright. How do we go about doing this?"

"Well," Percy said hesitantly. "It does require a bit of shopping on our part, and I do need to work on spells to change appearances, but after a spot of practice it should go off flawlessly."

"Ho ho ho," Oliver said weakly.

"That's the spirit," Percy said briskly.

Shopping actually turned out to be much more difficult than they expected. Neither of them was particularly good at lying or at disguising themselves or their intentions.

Neither of them also actually knew how to buy clothes, either.

They knew the general principals (you buy what fits) and both had Methods of buying clothes (Percy generally told Madame Malkin that he worked in the Ministry and gravitated towards things with pinstripes; Oliver told Madame Malkin that he was a Quidditch player and bought clothes that hid bloodstains).

After a thoroughly exasperating evening in Diagon Alley, they both gave up and went home to sleep and, in Oliver's case, think about Quidditch, and in Percy's case, ruminate on his failures.

Before he did that, however, he flipped through _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ and decided to pop-over to Penny's flat. He missed her terribly and he still remained terrified over her safety, terrified that he had somehow lost her forever and to Oliver of all people! He liked Oliver; Oliver was his only friend, but Oliver did not have the brain capacity to understand anything that was not directly connected to Quidditch! Percy was openly terrified of everything that had gone wrong, that could go wrong, and would go wrong.

He Apparated into her flat and sat in the middle of the floor with the lights turned off for some time, until the feelings of panic moved away, until the generalized terror faded and he could see details again. It was going to work. Oliver was good at play-acting; Percy noticed everything and was scarily organized-

It was a good plan. It was going to work.

Percy waved his wand apathetically and the lights in the apartment came on, to reveal a neat, tidy apartment, tastefully, but sparsely furnished. Percy thought it was actually much better furnished than his own much larger apartment, which had a very clean and well-kept bed and bath (the only two parts of his flat that he actually used regularly) but otherwise his home away from the Burrow was more library than living space; for it had little furniture and a unused kitchen and rooms empty except for stacks of books everywhere on the floor and overfilled bookcases.

Penelope had bookcases too; far less than Percy's overstuffed library - - for he had a tendency to find every subject interesting and would go crazy in bookshops. Penny was clearly more selective in her collection and all perfectly organized and (yes!) alphabetized. Percy suddenly remembered why he loved Penelope Clearwater quite as much as he had. He carefully browsed the bookshelves, mildly fascinated at the juxtaposition of Muggle and magical medical texts. Penelope's father owned a rare books shop and it showed in her collection of books. Percy also noticed the ' _rent pass due'_ notice that had been slipped under the front door and without thinking and a quickly written note – arranged for his Gringotts account to anonymously pay Penny's rent and utilities.

"He then made the mistake of opening a window to _**air out**_ the place (instead he just let in London's city-smog). Percy, who almost never traveled back and forth to his own flat using Muggle methods, had forgotten how dirty the air of cities could be and thus he quickly closed the window again. And utilizing yet another spell (taught to him as a child) which cleaned the flat …dusted and freshened the air… all at the same time. Mentally thanking his mother for the lesson he began browsing the shelves for the rest of the Scarlet Pimpernel books. He skimmed through a few- adventurous, fun reads- and picked a few to take home with him to help him come up with additional tactics.

After going through her rather selective non-textbook collection of fiction books for a few moments and before he could sit down again - - Percy then hear a sound and saw Hermes tapping on the window he had closed …opening again just long enough for the owl to swoop into the apartment and land on the back of Penny's couch.

"Oh, hello," Percy said, in minor surprise. "I didn't send any letters off."

Hermes automatically stuck out his leg and Percy untied a thick scroll. "I suppose Penny has some food in her kitchen?" Hermes hooted, as if to say, 'Well, it's the least you can do.'

Percy crumbled up several biscuits he found in a box in one of the cupboards and filled up a small bowl with water before allowing himself to look at the letter.

It was addressed to him in Penelope's scrupulously neat handwriting.

8888

 _Dear Percy_ , it began,

 _I found Hermes delivering mail and lured him away from his flight back with a chocolate croissant. I hope you won't be too terribly offended by this unorthodox change in his diet._

 _I'm having a lovely vacation. You know that I've always been fascinated by the French Revolution in 1789. Did you know that there was a Muggle counterpoint? It's really quite astonishing to compare the two._

 _It still all hinges on Maximilien Robespierre, who was the first wizard to use a time tuner in an academic setting, to attend both Muggle and Magical schools. He really was a fascinating character. Historians seem completely divided about him; that is, when they remember him. He was either a- Grindelwaldian -tyrant who wanted to end wizarding society, or he was one of the most progressive and intelligent wizards France has ever seen. I think the thing to remember, though, is that he was obsessed with doing what was right. He reminds me of you …a little._

 _I visited his hometown of Arras and was quite shocked that there was absolutely nothing to commemorate him. I think that's the way of all true heroes, they search for the right and only the dedicated few remember them._

 _Robespierre; for example… in his lifetime, he was known as the 'Incorruptible'. He fought to end the death penalty and extend equal rights to all people. He composed most of the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and most of their constitution (still in use today!). However, it got to a point where absolutely everyone was against France. The people were starving, the crops were failing, Austria had invaded, the nobility, whose feudal privileges had been abolished, were angry and raising an army of their own with direct British financial and military support. It was a terrible situation and they tried to make the best of it. They ended up executing all the enemies of the state, but there were so many and everyone was in such a panic that the executions went wildly out of control. Robespierre then made himself into a focus for the hatred and the terror. He chose to become a symbol of the Terror and the government that created it, and then deliberately allowed him-self to be killed._

 _Robespierre ended the Terror by having him-self executed._

 _I hope you never have to do anything like that, Percy._

 _In any case, I just want to say that you are an amazing person. I will probably be really hard for you, going against the Ministry, but you always do what you think is right, regardless of what anyone else thinks. To that end, I'm sorry about our break-up tiff. You were doing what you thought was right, which I hadn't really realized at the time. Of course, I did what I thought was right too, so we still would have reached a bit of an impasse regardless._

 _By now you've probably found the sequels, you overachiever. I know you'll do what's right, regardless of what happens, and you'll have everything so meticulously organized everyone will be amazed at the revelation of your "secret plans". The books will help you, I hope. I doubt I have anything else of use, though I might have some World War Two books from my father - (it was around the same time as Wizarding War with Grindelwald, though you probably know that). I can't tell you where I am, except that I'm safe and across the Channel, and I don't think that we can contact one another again._

 _However, I've told the French Ministers about the Muggleborn genocide happening in Britain. They're quite aghast and very willing to help with tainted goods like me, but their bureaucracy has a reputation of moving as slow as snails so expect a diplomatically dreadful backlog. Your sister-in-law's mother can help you with French governmental red-tape. Show her a picture of a specific flower and she'll know who you are and will help you. I'll take care of the packages you send over here. I know plenty of people willing to-_ _ **take in**_ _-a bundle of British goods; my mum's side of the family still lives here, after all._

 _Percy, I hardly know what to say. I haven't so much as spoken to you in years and now this. You are much better than everyone, including yourself, ever gives you credit for. I know you can do this, Percy. I believe in you, for what it's worth. You are a kind, decent man and there aren't many of those in the world._ _Be careful. I hardly need to say anything else because I know you've got it all under control. You are wonderful, wonderful… wonderful_

 _I clipped out this article about tax laws and pasted it, in the off-chance you'd be interested, or in case anyone managed to break through my spells and read your letter._

There then followed about two feet of parchment devoted to the most boring section of tax laws in the French Constitution.

The end was the best bit though.

 _Don't change, Percy. You're absolutely fantastic the way you are._

 _All my love,_

 _Penny._

8888

Percy felt the urge to do something very romantic with the letter but, being Percy; he merely folded it up and put it in the pocket of his sweater vest. He made sure Hermes had had something to drink and then began writing a letter to Madame de la Coeur.

He had a lot of work to do.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 7

In which Percy Avaunts the spoon

Percy was working through lunch yet again. Unfortunately, the food in the cafeteria today was hot soup, which, alas, was not the easiest thing to eat while drafting interdepartmental memos. He nearly growled with frustration, the spoon sticking out of his mouth as he scanned a memo and stalked to the door of his office. After removing the spoon from his mouth he looked for his secretary before remembering that she had mysteriously 'vanished' two days ago.

Sticking his head out into the corridor, he bellowed, "Have someone prepare Donald for his interview with _The Prophet_ this afternoon and make sure that they do it _now_!" Some terrified peon sprinted down the hall to the elevator and Percy closed his door with a feeling a general mulishness against humanity in general.

He then attempted to attack his soup with all the ill-will he had for the world that day, but here is nothing that foils a plan like hot soup. He fanned his burning tongue and thought nostalgically of how he had never burned his tongue on his mother's cooking. He was tempted to put aside his memos for the stack of books he had taken from Penny's apartment (the Scarlet Pimpernel turned out to be a book series; a very _long_ book series), when he heard a voice.

"Is this Percy Weasley's office?" someone asked.

"Yes," Percy said, puzzled. He stood, still holding his spoon, and looked into the fireplace. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to call in the favor," Macnair said, looking sheepish.

"And?"

"There's been an... accident here at Azkaban; one of the prisoners has died."

"Of what, may I ask?" Percy asked, silently summoning a piece of parchment and a quill.

Macnair looked shifty. "That would be what I need the favor for."

Percy sighed. "Let me report to the Minister and I shall be over shortly to sort this whole affair out."

Macnair disappeared from the fire with a little 'pop' and Percy, dropping spoon, ink, and quill into his pocket, pinched the bridge of his nose. In the name of Merlin, wasn't it bad enough that the Muggleborn's were in death-row at the prison, and that by some miracle he had somehow convinced the first undersecretary Delores Umbridge to delay the mass executions of the Muds for thirty days by quoting the royal appeal process imbedded in wizarding law and now he was down to the last few days before the Dementor's- **Fed** – on innocent souls …and to add insult to injury; he had to worry about bored and grossly incompetent jailers?

Sliding his wand out of his sleeve, he tried to come up with some way to transport his soup with him before realizing, with a sudden shock, that he was the Scarlet Pimpernel and this was a perfect opportunity to carry out one of his most dangerous plans. He managed to come up with a spell on his spoon, so that when he wanted his soup he could just wave his spoon and say, 'hot soup' in order to have it appear in front of him. Percy was very proud of the spell as he dropped his spoon into his pocket and pulled out the notes Gilderoy Lockhart had written in loopy, scarlet handwriting:

888

' _They seek him here, they seek him there,_

 _The Ministry seeks him everywhere._

 _Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?_

 _That dammed elusive Pimpernel!'._

 _888_

Percy sealed these notes with a blob of red wax charmed to look like a scarlet pimpernel, before tucking them into the inner pocket of his robes. He then locked up his office and dropped in to tell the Minister that there had been an "accident" at Azkaban and he was going to go and fix it.

"Of course," the Minister said absently, flipping through piles of paperwork. "You know our official policy when it comes to Azkaban?"

Percy hazarded a guess. "All is well and missing prisoners do not exist?"

"Exactly," Pius smiled and then waved his assistant away and Percy felt at the same time sickened and exhilarated. This was the moment to affect a mass break-out such as never had been seen in wizarding history. He had been planning to break out the prisoners for over a fortnight now. He'd created passports and shipped them out to mostly the French Ministry, since it was the only one where he knew he'd be trusted if he asked for help, but he had no idea that he would manage to break everyone out all at once. But to do that he needed- - - Percy Apparated into Oliver Wood's apartment and began ransacking the place for some sort of schedule, quite surprising Oliver, who ended up merely being asleep in his bedroom.

"Sorry," Percy said, "but I'm about to break out all the Muggleborn's in Azkaban. You had better come along."

Oliver stared at him, bleary-eyed. "What day is it?"

"Thursday. It's half-past twelve so you really ought to be up."

"Well excuse me, but your ruddy-Ministry has canceled all professional Quidditch matches until further notice due to terrorist activity by the Potter gang - and I couldn't drown myself in the shower no matter how hard I tried, and, whoop de do, one does not get much sleep doing these secret missions of yours."

"Come, come," Percy scolded crisply. "Less time playing Quidditch means more time for you to help me out. Besides, I got much less sleep than you did. I was with you the whole time _and_ I came into work promptly at seven."

"Yes, well, you've developed a tolerance against not-sleeping. I haven't." Oliver groggily pulled himself out of bed. "What're we doing?"

"We're breaking out the Muggleborn prisoners from Azkaban and leaving a note in each cell. I counted - - so we do have enough. You were very convincing."

"Shut up," Oliver grumbled, still not over his rude awakening. "I'll come."

Oliver dressed according to Percy's instructions and, with a few minor spell modifications, ended up looking like a member of the- _**Obliviator squad**_.

"Perfect!" Percy said, very pleased with himself. "I say, I am getting very good at this. I've been disguising myself to go send out warnings via the owl-post, but I didn't think that anything came out of all the practice. This really is rewarding."

Oliver looked at himself in the mirror in bewilderment. "Have to hand it to you, Perce. You could've been an Auror."

"Someone has to take care of the details," Percy replied modestly. "We have to Floo in to Azkaban, now. Just… follow my lead. I've got everything planned." He explained as much as he could before they popped back into the Ministry and then Flooed over to Azkaban.

Macnair stood sheepishly in the stone room, looking askance at the ground. He looked immeasurably relieved when Percy cleared his throat, assumed Super Pompous Prat mode, and said, "Alright, I've come with an Obliviator. What can we do for you?"

"This way," Macnair said, walking out.

"Stick close," Percy muttered to Oliver as they walked through the cramped, narrow stone corridors. "You remember the plan?"

Oliver nodded, his hand, in his pocket, clenched around his wand.

Macnair waved away an absolutely enormous heard of Dementor's to reveal a much shaken Mulicber, who opened up a cell with a flick of his wand.

Martha Austen lay in heap in the very center, not moving, not breathing.

Percy paled and stepped back. "What did you _do_?"

"Well… you know how it is. You get bored. And then the Dementor's get attracted by the excitement, and…." Macnair shrugged. "She's dead, or as good as dead."

Mulicber grinned sickly. "Macnair said that you'd deal with it … Right? You can make the problem go away?"

Percy nearly boiled over with anger and felt Oliver beside him stiffen and start forward. Percy grabbed him by the arm. Oliver shot him a glare but Percy gripped his arm very tightly in warning. "Oh yes, I'm sure we can."

He released Oliver. "Now!" Percy slid his wand out of his sleeve and whirled on Mulicber. "STUPEFY!" Mulicber flew backwards, skidding to a halt in front of the group of Dementor's. Percy summoned him back and banished him into Martha's cell.

"Oh bugger off, you lot," Percy said, very rudely, to the flock of Dementor's, just in time to see Oliver woosh back, unconscious, and crumple into a heap in the middle of the hallway.

Percy looked down at him. "Oliver… what can be said?"

Oliver, being unconscious, did not respond.

Macnair stomped forward. "What the hell was that?"

"I have to dispose of the body," Percy said. "There cannot be witnesses."

"You could have just _asked us to leave_ ," Macnair said.

Percy pretended to be greatly astonished. "Oh… really? That is… sort of against regulation, but…."

Macnair looked genuinely surprised at that. "The Ministry has regulations about this sort of thing?"

Percy gave him a Look. "Obviously. Where would the Ministry be without regulations for everything? Witnesses must be stunned and then have their memories modified. The problem thus ceases to exist."

"If you weren't on our side, you'd be damn frightening," Macnair replied, turning.

"Glad to hear it," Percy said. "Stu-"

"Wait, wait," Macnair replied, holding up his hands. "I thought that we established that I didn't need to be stupefied."

"You can't just go against proper procedure like that!" Percy exclaimed in his most pompous, outraged bureaucrat tone of voice.

"I don't like having wands pulled on me!" snapped Macnair.

"Look, **you** asked me to come in and make this problem go away, so you have to follow along with proper procedure!" This wasn't working. This really wasn't working. New plan, new plan, new plan, new plan-

"Procedure? How can you go on about procedure when it makes you attack innocent people?"

The irony really just was too much.

"Exactly… _STUPEFY!_ "

Macnair blocked it, which lead, very much against Percy's carefully thought out plan, to a duel.

Macnair was very quick and he was vicious. He fought dirty, which appalled Percy, who had no idea what to do in response. Even Fred and George could not have prepared him for this - - He blocked Macnair's spell and ducked as another whizzed over head and blasted apart part of the stone wall.

"Just give up!" Macnair roared. "I don't have any quarrel with you, except that you want to stun me!"

"I do have a quarrel with you, though," Percy said, shooting a non-verbal Jelly-legs curse that Macnair blocked. "Waste of resources, that's what this was. Miss Martha Austen was a carefully trained executive assistant and there are damn few of us left. She was to be reeducated into believing in our progressive way of doing things at the Ministry … NOT KILLED …because you-lot got bored. I think, that is the only explanation you'd understand."

"Death Eaters don't need _stupid_ bureaucrats!" Macnair shouted, swinging his wand down in a powerful arc that made Percy tumble backwards, into a wall.

"Ow," Percy said, sprawled on the floor and grabbing for his glasses before they flew away. The prisoners had stirred themselves out of their terror and apathy and looked out of their cells at him in wordless supplication.

Macnair stepped on Percy's right hand with a heavy boot and prized Percy's wand out of his fingers. "eh-Gods. I know you like the rules, but this is bloody ridiculous. I'll 'vanish' the prisoner's body myself." He lifted his foot to kick Percy in the side (it was excruciatingly painful and Percy held his sides and curled up into himself) and stomped off down the hallway.

Through the haze of pain Percy managed to get one thought through his head. He must not let Macnair do this. He could not let him do this. This was wrong and against every law- written and unwritten. It violated _natural_ law, it was wrong and he, Percy, was the Scarlet Pimpernel and he had to stop it.

Percy somehow managed to drag himself to a standing position against the wall and shoved his glasses on. His torso was on fire and his head ached and he was sure, suddenly very sure, that he was going to die, but he forced himself to stand up and began to lurch down the corridor. Wandless; Percy plunged his hand into his pocket, looking for anything he could find to help him.

He suddenly pulled out his spoon and waved it feebly at Macnair. "N- no- no- y-you can't do- do that. Stop!"

Macnair turned in surprise. "… what the hell?"

Percy gained speed and confidence. Personal pain was immaterial! He was the Scarlet Pimpernel! "I command you to stop!"

"Go to hell? That's a spoon! What do you think you're going to do with that?" Macnair had his wand pointed at Martha's body

"No, don't you dare!" Percy shouted …advancing steadily with his spoon out-stretched.

"Are you trying to duel me with _a stupid spoon_?" Macnair asked incredulously.

"No," Percy replied, a bit smugly before saying clearly. "I prefer …Hot soup."

With that, it appeared right in front of Percy- on Macnair's head. Macnair screamed in pain and dropped his wand, giving Percy ample opportunity to take Macnair's wand and then stun the unrepentant Death-Eater. Percy took his own wand back and, after somewhat healing healing himself, tucked it back into his sleeve. - - down the hall; Oliver proved very easy to revive, and limited himself to only a few obscenities when Percy chided him for having "such bad reflexes one would never think you played Quidditch".

"Oh shut up. How do you suggest we break these people out of their cells? Also, this beard itches." Oliver took his wand and waved it at himself, taking on his normal appearance.

"Oh, I came prepared," Percy replied, almost happily as he magically changed his face and hair color, for no one could see the real Percy. "Look." He pulled out a thick booklet of papers from his pocket and flipped through the pages. "In my hand is all the counter-spells to all the door locks. Even _you_ should be able to do these, Oliver."

"It's really strange to hear you trying to make jokes."

"I am _trying_ at it. I don't think I quite grasp the entire concept of humor."

"No, no you don't. But that's okay. Our friendship does not rely on your ability to make or understand jokes, which is probably a good thing."

"You can always cheer me, Oliver. It's a rather remarkable ability of yours."

Percy and Oliver moved carefully through the prison, Percy performing the counter-spells and Oliver helping the prisoners stand up and walk out. Percy claimed the privilege of placing each note down precisely in the middle of each now empty cell.

"There are more cells in the east wing are we releasing them too? Oliver asked.

NO… they are actual criminals lawfully convicted under the old laws of crimes against the general public. I was very careful during my last visit to bureaucratically segregate the criminals from He-who-shall-not be-named political prisoners.

How are we getting all of these Muggleborn's out?" Oliver asked again, as the league of the Pimpernel (i.e. Oliver) helped the last prisoner into the jailer's break-room.

"There really aren't all that many of them left," Percy admitted, feeling the adrenaline rush of victory quickly dim. "It's really horrible, Oliver. Everyday Dolores sends a very long letter to Azkaban of the Muggleborn's who it's alright to _experiment_ on, to determine through torture how they _stole magic_ from other wizards. I still don't know what happened to everyone. I'm just supposed to mark that they died in captivity, like the prisoners were all just animals in a slaughter house."

Oliver gawked at Percy. "Wait, really, Perce?"

Percy pushed the door open so Oliver could put the unconscious prisoner inside. "Yes", I kept a record; in the last two months alone - - over 100 natural cause 'passing's' came about in this prison. My stay of execution stopped the Dementor from a mass feedings, but it didn't stop a pair of bored jailers from having their …fun. With that said Percy turned to the crowd of people. It was really disheartening to see over two hundred innocent souls, some being small children… all huddled in groups on the ground and slumped against the walls like people already dead.

"Alright then… here we go. We're going to organize you-lot into groups. Look, everyone; you're free. You have passports waiting for you in the offices of sympathetic Ministers in the French Ministry. You need to be really careful, though. The Floo network is under constant surveillance so, er…."

"Oliver?" Oliver prompted, in an undertone.

"No, no! - - You can't tell anyone your real name. You need a: 'code-name'; a false identity just like a mask conceals your face, it's how the league operated in the books."

"Osric Tattington," Oliver supplied.

"Er, yes. Osric here will help you reach the edge of Azkaban and Apparate away. You will wait until I return with your wands and then go out in groups." Percy pulled a sheaf of papers out of an inner pocket and handed them to Oliver. "This may be rather difficult for you, Oli- er… _Osric_ , but get everyone into small groups while I go unlock the wand box."

"Right-you-are," said Oliver, dubiously. "Are you going to help me get them out?"

"Me? Oh, no. I can only stay… perhaps forty-five minutes more before Dolores gets suspicious, but then I really have to get back and deliver this." He said in a whisper into Oliver's ear while holding-up one of notes, beaming. "After all; I'm getting very good at double-speak."

One of the prisoners stumbled over to him, dragged her tattered robes more tightly around her shoulders. "Please, sir – we - we're really free to go?"

"Yep," said Oliver. "We've broken you out."

The witch turned to Percy, peering at him through a mat of tangled hair. "And who are you, then, to risk so much for strangers?"

"Me?" asked Oliver. "I'm just your average, dashing, heroic … out of work Quidditch star. No need to thank me."

"And you?" the witch asked Percy, completely ignoring Oliver.

"Me?" asked Percy, much astonished. "I'm the Scarlet Pimpernel."

OoOoOoOooOo

The lights come up for yet another brief intermission, the play will resume shortly, you have just enough time to go to the loo and grab refreshments.

End trans


	3. Chapter 3

HP story; **the miss-Adventures of the Magical Scarlet Pimpernel**

Based on a short HP story rated K - - as crafted by Elyse3 at fan-fiction dot com called; **The Scarlet Pimpernel** \- - First published: 09-14-07 possible completion date: 11-04-08

This will be yet another in a long-line of Hollywood remakes by Billybob-csagun36

A/N: this was one of only two; all-time favorite Percy centered stories. It was first published in 2007 and I reread it several time a year. I recently went back to send yet another thank you note to the original author only to discover that he/she (elyse3) was gone and the story pulled. Words cannot describe my disappointment.

Although clearly dated, (in plot). The story in-itself was amazing - and if anyone out there knows who Elyse3 is; please send Him/her my thanks for a really good read. (All attempts to find the original Elyse3 story on the internet failed) It is a sad commentary on our times that so many fan-fiction stories and their authors have disappeared. However; that the original short story has disappeared - - - in itself did not prevent me from engaging in a favorite pastime of mine, namely: tweaking a good story and embellishing it to make it better (or worse)

8888

Part 1

Chapters; 8 – 9 - 10

OoOoOoO

Chapter 8

In which Percy was successful

"I found this at the scene of the crime," Percy said, dropping the note onto Dolores Umbridge's desk, "A bad poem written in loopy handwriting. Worse-yet... it doesn't make sense at all! The numbers of people we have at Azkaban are either inadequate or grossly incompetent".

"I'm outraged… No-no I'm more than outraged … I'm _incensed! - -_ Two incident's at Azkaban in just a couple of months? Those two idiots; lost-all of the 'reeducation' pure-blood prisoners as well as the Mudblood's. In fact the only ones he left behind were the legitimate criminals and how this bad poet …could possibly have known the difference; escapes me!"

"We are going to have to look into that at once" Yaxley pointed out.

"That still leaves us with a nearly empty Azkaban and two combat-experienced Death-Eater wizards that were overpowered and then locked in a cell dressed up as Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff …that they have no memory of what happened is absolutely ludicrous! Why the- the- the… " Percy complained.

"You have permission to swear," Dolores said, looking murderous as she picked up the note.

Percy did so.

"For someone who seems so stodgy and by-the-book, you can be surprisingly creative," Yaxley commented, a little too brightly. Umbridge glared at him like some sort of toad about to eat a particularly vexing fly.

"Shut-it, Yaxley. We just lost all the important prisoners in Azkaban… which means we have lost leverage on any number of pure-blood families - - people who will now question our ability to keep things under-control," Mutely furious, she read the poem to herself, her lips moving along with the words.

"So we lost a few dozen hostages … we'll go out and get more. Maybe even execute a few as an example to the rest of the sheep", Yaxley snarled. "The problem to any dictatorship posing as a democracy isn't a revolt by the general public. We have the media behind us covering our lies …which means the wizarding sheep for the most-part remain docile".

"What does worry me… is this poet and his notes. What does this dribble, even _mean_?" Yaxley demanded, snatching the note from Umbridge's short, pudgy fingers and scanning it. His scowl deepened as he went on and Percy had to press his lips together very firmly to keep himself from smiling or laughing.

Very severely, Percy said, "It is _nonsense_. We are clearly dealing with some _loon_."

Umbridge pursed her lips. "We much have someone put out a notice in the newspapers. We shall ask for information about a… what is this flower at the bottom?"

"A scarlet pimpernel," Percy replied. "I looked it up."

"We'll ask if anyone knows of a madman who had previously served time in Azkaban… a bloke who thinks that he's a small red flower". Yaxley growled. "Mulicber and Macnair will be relieved from their posts, naturally - - and the new garrison at the prison installed that's heavily reinforced. That is our short term, logistical solution".

"But we still have the problem of the escaped prisoners… where would they go; into hiding here or overseas?" Yaxley continued sternly… "I'm going to have to get instructions from the dark-lord and see what he wants done. Until I get back… I want you, Delores …to make a list of names with accompanying photographs of all these fugitives to turn over to the snatchers. As for you Percy, I want you to personally make some 'inquires' with all the other magical governments on the continent – as we no longer have a diplomatic office. You will act as our sole contact with the foreigners. Get anything you can out of the other Ministries concerning any sudden influx of British witches and wizards seeking asylum."

"What about the media?" Percy countered.

"We'll handle the sheep; you take care of the diplomatic wolves. Because honestly; there is no-one left besides you… who knows how", Yaxley said with a soft chuckle.

Percy half-smiled back while nodding in sad agreement; for the Death Eater **purge** of the Ministry had left entire departments empty of knowledgeable personnel. Percy then let Yaxley and deputy-minister Umbridge delegate the media task, which meant; that it would recruit the most incompetent employee 'still alive' and working in the Ministry. It also-meant… there would-be absolutely no rehearsal before-hand over what was needed to be said. As for the press interviewer; Yaxley wasn't the type to think of putting a 'total outsider' through a standardized background check and this person would be most likely turn-out to be a secret Harry Potter supporter. If this theory was correct; the public would find out so much more than Dolores Umbridge ever intended.

As it turned out, Percy was dead wrong about one thing; the muck-up was a thousand times worse than he had imagined. It was bad-enough for Dolores Umbridge to break her tea cup and saucer over Yaxley's head. The article became the next morning's front-page headline.

8888

 _WHO IS THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL?_

 _By: Alice Woodward-Bernstein_

 _Yesterday was the largest breakout from Azkaban in wizarding history, led by a wizard known only as 'The Scarlet Pimpernel'. Every prisoner in the lower level security wards in Azkaban was successfully released and remains at large today, without a single recapture made in the last twenty-four hours. In each of their empty cells the same note was found:_

'' _ **They seek him here, they seek him there,**_

 _ **The Ministry seeks him everywhere.**_

 _ **Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?**_

 _ **That dammed elusive Pimpernel!**_ _'._

" _We are hard at work to find out the identity of this madman," said a spokes-witch for the Ministry; who refused to give her name. "For his or her own safety and for the safety of others, we request that you contact the Ministry immediately with details, any details, really, about this, er- about this person's_ _mad antics_ _and stuff. - - Upon further questioning, the witch added that the Ministry really "didn't have a bloody clue" who the Scarlet Pimpernel was, if he intended to strike again, or what his long-term plans were. All indications are that 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' has apparently been rescuing the disloyal for considerable period of time prior to the mass break-out. Several people who were believed to have been kidnapped from the Ministry by the 'Potter gang' might have been first targeted by this deranged person._

 _It was only when a high-level Ministry employee went to inspect the prison of Azkaban that the latest exploit of this crazy terrorist was discovered. The unnamed official found in every empty prison cell a note from the Scarlet Pimpernel that corresponds to an incredible amount of missing prisoners. In fact, the majority of the prisoners released had been recently convicted for blood status crimes against the state - - while leaving behind untouched, those convicted of more mundane criminal acts and put in Azkaban since Minister Fudge resigned …the spoke witch for the Ministry went on to say that it is obvious that a member of the Potter terrorist organization was behind this raid … some poor delusional fool who might be considered a hero, by those who mistakenly oppose the_ _ **just rule**_ _of our Ministry._

' _Only two things are definitively known about The Scarlet Pimpernel - -_ _ **One**_ _) his overwhelming desire to free convicted Mudblood's and Blood-traitors; and_ _ **secondarily**_ _) his signature device in the form of: a little red flower' - - the spokes-witch further stated that the Ministry - - "had no idea what was going on and no idea whatever as to how to counter this unexpected threat"._

' _If this mad-man has been seriously undermining our beloved Minister's positive goals for our future - - by rescuing these criminal and highly dangerous Mudblood's, as a means of swelling the ranks of the terrorist resistance … it is the duty of every citizen to get these abominations off our streets … to prevent the further polluting our pure society with their stupid ideas of equality under the law. The spokes-witch wanted to assured the public that the-_ _ **purge of the undesirables**_ _–from our society will continue unchanged, until England is finally clean. But for now be watchful and report anyone you suspect of being a-part of the Potter Gang. For only Merlin knows how much damage these terrorists can do in the long run… or when this tragedy will end._

8888

After reading the account in the- _**Daily Prophet**_ \- Percy could not have been happier and found him-self actually smiling at the oddest of times. The whispered discussions in the elevators and the corridors over the mysterious "Pimpernel" filled him with a glee that he was at pains to describe. He didn't mind sharing the credit with the Potter Gang if such a thing actually existed. He knew for a fact that the _**Order of the Phoenix**_ had been all-but destroyed during the take-over of the Ministry, with those not killed outright being set free during the Azkaban break-out. As for **Dumbledore's Army** that was a delusion of Minister Fudges - - and composed of a bunch of school children, which had been disbanded by Umbridge while Grand Inquisitor at Hogwarts.

There was no resistance moment in the UK beyond an illegal radio station broadcasting rubbish and Oliver and Percy warning Muggleborn's to get the hell out of England. Any fool who had ignored the owl-post warning Percy had sent …might have finally bought themselves a clue by reading between the lines of the- _**Daily Prophet**_ -article and had escaped to France. For those still in illogical denial; the article spurred Percy to disguise him-self with increasing frequency to sneaking-out to the Owlery and send additional warnings.

From the executive memos crossing his desk now; he knew Umbridge was turning more and more attention to those she considered Blood-traitors. He even found it within himself to send notices to all his brothers and his parents (albeit as the Scarlet Pimpernel) that they were under extraordinarily grave suspicion from the Ministry and it would be in their best interest to go into hiding, here or on the continent. Percy even included in all 'Pimpernel correspondence' the name and contact information of a few of the witches and wizards in the French, Spanish and German Ministries whom he knew to be particularly anti-Death Eater and ferociously egalitarian.

These notes, of course, were so heavily warded that Hermes looked dizzy when he flew off with them, but it was a necessary precaution. He had to admit that it hurt when he snuck into his father's office and saw that he had banished him from the family picture, it had hurt unbearably, but then to cheer him-self up; Percy would reread the letter Penny had written him and it almost, almost made up for the fact that his family still hated him, and that he would be killed long before he saw Penny again.

It frequently amazed Percy that he was still alive. Everything seemed to be working for him as it never had worked before. He had managed to completely obliterate any type of a paper trail from his last rescue by virtue of the fact that he had put himself in charge of the investigation of the mass break-out. There was an ease at turning the circumstances facing him to actually helping his mission. He was even overjoyed over the continuing newspaper articles and 'owl-posts to the editor' criticizing the Ministry gross incompetence on the Mudblood issue, most such letters sent in by families with clear Death Eater sympathizes.

The incompetence issue didn't seem to lose steam either. Until one day; Dolores, in a furious state of mind over the continuous bad-press … ordered Percy to France 'in-person' to demand that these 'stupid foreigners' extradite for immediate execution all Mudblood criminals hiding within their borders …or at the very least; send them any information they might have on the- ' _Potter Gang and their whereabouts'_ – and finally, the identity of the mad-man called the Pimpernel. Percy had to make this trip due to the outright stonewalling the British Ministry was facing over the Mudblood/Blood traitor issue (and they didn't answer any of Dolores's letters… how rude!).

He had never been to Paris before and hoped, vaguely, that he might see Penny again. However, he shook his head sadly at the thought, just as he always did, and put away all thoughts of private life. The Scarlet Pimpernel was much more important than Percy Weasley and both men were clearly living on borrowed-time. As soon as he arrived in the elegant foyer with the tasteful wrought iron decorations interspersed with still-growing greenery, a wizard in navy-blue pinstripes whisked Percy to a comfortable, stylish office, where he was to wait for Madame Delacour.

He did not have to wait long.

"Monsieur Weasley!" I am the Countess Isabelle Delacour, deputy-minister of diplomacy for the French republic", she exclaimed, swooping down to kiss him on each cheek, entering as soon as her assistant shut the door. She was wearing a very low-cut set of patterned white robes and Percy suddenly found that he could see just _how_ low-cut the robes were.

"Er, yes," Percy replied, turning as scarlet as his signature flower.

"Come! Sit down!" They did so and Madame Delacour smiled at him again. "I have been reading your letters- the ones you signed with the little red drawing."

"Er, yes, um." Percy cleared his throat and thought of Penny (no – bad…Bad idea!) better-yet; he remembered the sight of the maintenance squib/caretaker from Hogwarts; **Argus Filch** , dressed down to a 'G-string' and popping out of a birthday cake in honor of Dolores Umbridge's birthday earlier this year.

That worked.

"Madame Delacour, I would prefer it if you did not let anyone know I was- er, that I sign with a scarlet pimpernel, that identity needs to stay a secret."

"But of course." She smiled winningly and it was back to that horribly awkward birthday party once more. Percy was now recalling Mrs. Norris the caretaker's cat licking Filch's G-string… bulge … ' _oh-my; that's was a sick thing to witness. As was Delores delight at the sight'_.

"I took on the flower to hide my identity and protect my friends and family." Ha-ha, like he had friends and family? Oliver didn't count, since he was as much a part of this as Percy was. "If it became public knowledge that I have been freeing prisoners, illegally convicted… well then…." Percy trailed off and frowned. He was revealing far more than he intended to reveal. Even the most minor detail could be dangerous once spoken aloud.

Madame Delacour smiled at him again, leaning forward to listen, and Percy was struck with a sudden admiration. He had to hand it to her. She was incredibly clever at using- 'all the resources' -at her disposal; including a scandalous amount of cleavage, to glean details she otherwise would not have gotten; that meant she realized that every detail counted, no matter what how little it was - - very clever indeed. However, Percy was also very-well versed in playing diplomatic games wherein every unfair advantage was still by definition an advantage over a political adversary. With Percy the Ministry bureaucrat without a thought; now was countering the Delacour ploy in his head; by mentally reorganizing and filing in alphabetical order at least three times, the list of Muggleborn's that he and Oliver had set free.

"I received your letters as well, Madame."

"Then you will understand my surprise when my department first began to receive your flower letters." She said seductively.

"I do have to cover my tracks," he admitted. "I may as well say now that anything I sign in my own given-name has been transcribed verbatim by Dolores Umbridge. Only the letters I sign with the flower are my legitimate correspondence."

Madame Delacour pursed her red-lipstick covered lips together before straightening up in her chair. "Alright, let's moving on; your plans seem to have worked-out so far. Will you continue to do as you have done? The continental Ministers that I have contacted have all agreed to continue with their assistance."

"Indeed, Madame."

"As to compensation…?"

"Madame, if Voldemort succeeds in fully taking over Great Britain and killing off Harry Potter, and thus the resistance movement centered on him, you will need all the able-bodied witches and wizards you can find to fight off a Death Eater invasion. Voldemort will want all of Europe under his thumb at some point."

She did not appear to be fully convinced and once again she leaned forward in her chair, arms crossed almost directly underneath what passed for the bottom of her cleavage display that all but spilled-out onto her desk. To offset this gambit Percy stared at the spot in between her eyes on her forehead and refused to look down. It was very difficult and Percy had to force himself to remember the time he'd walked in on his parents – _doing it_ \- urgh.

That killed all sexual thoughts in his head.

"So you can offer us nothing?" Madame Delacour inquired, sounding rather put-out.

"Madame, I am offering you a chance to continually do the right thing. There has never been and will probably never be an issue quite as clear cut as this one. Will you allow France to go down in history as an unfeeling villain who abandoned thousands of innocents to their deaths at the hands of an evil dictator masquerading as a elected official?"

"Britain abandoned us when Grindelwald took over. Actually…." She paused and Percy had to look down. Madame Delacour spun around and disappeared behind her desk for a moment and then came back up with a copy of ' _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore'._ Percy had been meaning to read it for some time now, to see whether or not the Ministry should suppress its publication, but Dolores had read through it already and authorized it publication by saying that it might dishearten Harry Potter and his supporters to see that Dumbledore was a fagot and therefore morally corrupt. Percy had no problems with homosexuals or any of lifestyles of those witches who preferred werewolves or Centaurs as bunk-mates. Generally speaking, Weasley's have never been bigoted on any lifestyle issues. Percy also knew as a fact; that such mixed race partnerships were on the bottom of Dolores's blood-status list of undesirables. Sooner or later all such undesirables would have to be put-down.

Meanwhile Madame Delacour had put the book on the desk between them and flipped through the pages until she got about half-way through. "Ah. Here it is. According to this, your hero, Dumbledore…" she began only to be interrupted.

"…I was never a blind follower of Albus, He was however the 'Great Hero' of most of my family, my youngest brother Ronald in particular… but I never fell-victim of celebrity worship," Percy said with restraint. "I have always been a student of the truth and rather despise how some 'hero cults' rewrite history to fit their political agendas. I personally found Dumbledore to be a rather consistent liar. Oh, by-the-way: out of blind-loyalty to Albus; my family has disowned me. That was in-itself mildly upsetting."

"Ah! So you _are_ de brother-in-law to my Fleur!" Madame Delacour sent another dazzling grin in his direction. "I had wondered. There really are too many Weasley's these days. You are de black-sheep of your family… No? Now, dis is very interesting, No-one in your family suspects that you are the one undermining the English genocide. The large number of British Muggleborn's in France alone - seeking asylum - is very impressive. And you are right of course; your family refuses to think badly of Dumbledore, just as most of your countrymen refuses to acknowledge on any level what Grindelwald did over here".

"As you say - - the politically correct rewriting of history …No? - - They underplay anything bad about Grindelwald so as not to reflect on Albus the hero. The raw truth is often harsh and equally unavoidable. Grindelwald was an Austrian by birth and one by one conquered all the countries in Western Europe, united them under his empire, and imprisoned or murdered those who rebelled. He planned on revealing us to the Muggles and ruling over them in some sort of 'benevolent dictatorship' with a Muggle stooge named Hitler".

"Everyone, of course, hated the idea of revealing ourselves to the non-magical world, so Grindelwald ended-up killing or imprisoning countless thousands - - yet for the five long years of this brutal oppression, your government only issued nastily worded diplomatic notes…and why? - Because, as young men, Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald had fallen in love. Because of this love, Grindelwald never attacked England, and Dumbledore never suggested that the UK attack Grindelwald."

"But after those five years, Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald," Percy interjected. "It was a fairly epic battle."

"But how can you be sure he was not planning on joining his lover and the meeting went wrong?"

"I can't. But the raw truth is, he _didn't_. Regardless of what Dumbledore was, when he learned that Grindelwald was on the verge of invading England, Albus chose the love of his country and of his countrymen over the one great love of his life. He sacrificed the personal for the public. - - We aren't asking _you_ to sacrifice a single French life here. I ask you only to 'let in' innocent Muggleborn's- _**unfairly persecuted**_ -and give them a safe haven."

"And to provide them with some means of livelihood", she added.

"If you let them starve your humanitarian efforts would be a-tad pointless."

Madame Delacour leaned forward again and upped the sexual charm considerably. Filch, in all his glory shagging Umbridge; in the Hogwarts Head-boy shower stall.

"But you must realize," purred Madame Delacour, "that all this is terribly expensive for my Government."

"Then have the escapees work for you," Percy replied. "Once they are in your employ, the British Ministry cannot recapture them without triggering an instant wizarding world war."

She pursed her lips. Argus Filch, shagging Umbridge next to his parents doing the same thing, having an orgy in his head-boy suite… _badly spelled memos_ -

"Alright. But!" She raised a manicured finger. "You owe us."

"Agreed," Percy said, shaking her hand and pointedly not looking at her chest.

"You are very strong-willed," she said, amused and knowing-all too well… how many men had folded like a deck of cards under the influence of her underpowered Veela magic and the seductiveness of the exposed bosom-flesh of a beautiful woman.

"I would be dead if I was not otherwise." Percy dropped her hand. "May I report back, that you refused to listen to reason?

"Oh my yes …You can tell your dictator that the British Ministry's demands were absurd and potentially damaging to the French economy." She replied. "Ooh, say that I broke a carafe of wine over your head. I've always wanted to have done something like that." She poured wine over Percy's head to add to the verisimilitude, but Percy balked at having glass fragments in his skull.

"You dodged?" Madame Delacour suggested. "I flung the wine at you and you dodged before the bottle followed."

"Oh, alright," Percy said, as Madame Delacour smashed the bottle against the wall.

"Your refusal to see reason is outrageous?" Percy shouted, flinging open the door, to the shock of the Ministry employees very pointedly not listening outside Madame Delacour's office.

"Get out!" she cried, bosom heaving. ( _Filch/Umbridge, his parents, Potter/Granger all caught in the act of a wild orgy in the prefect bathroom by poor pathetic Ronald … badly spelled memos describing the scene, and (oh God) the twins touching each other …down-there …both_ _naked_ _\- ew_ ). Percy's libido died entirely with that last one.

"Get out! We will never ally ourselves with the slaves of Voldemort - - Vive la France!" - - Madame Delacour chased him to the fireplaces, wand outstretched. It took talent to run that quickly in stilettos. She burst into the French National Anthem, causing everyone else to do the same.

"Good luck," she whispered, as Percy grabbed Floo powder and flung it into the fireplace.

"I'll need it," Percy admitted. "The British Ministry of Magic!"

Madame Delacour blew up a corner of the fireplace and Percy jumped into the fireplace to general cheers from everyone in the French Ministry.

"Well?" snapped Dolores's voice, as Percy pulled his glasses and robes askew and tumbled onto the floor of the Atrium. Eloise looked at him in mute astonishment.

Percy staggered upright, pretending to have difficulty remaining vertical as opposed to horizontal. Dolores shoved past several other Ministry members to get face-to-face with Percy.

Pretending to have difficulty focusing his eyes, Percy staggered forward. "Would- would not listen to reason. Very vicious, the French… bad waste - of – good wine."

With that, Percy managed to trip over his own feet and collapse face-down onto the floor of the Atrium. He was very glad that no one could see his grin.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 9

In which Percy Questions

888

After feigning unconsciousness until Dolores dumped a bucket of water over his head and had him sent to St. Mungo's, Percy let himself relax back onto his hospital bed and read more of the Scarlet Pimpernel books, their covers transfigured into _Prefects Who Gained Power_.

"Hey, Perce," Oliver said, dropping into a chair by Percy's bed. "Apparently the nurses here alerted me concerning your condition …as your next of kin."

"That's really quite strange," Percy said. "I'm not quite sure why they would."

"Because your family disowned you?" Oliver suggested.

"Well, there is that." Percy replied with a resigned shrug

There was no denying that he spent a ridiculous amount of time with Oliver. They had taken to disguising themselves while visiting the Muggle families of freed or imprisoned Muggleborn's. Both of them were pure-blood and found doorbells strange and fascinating, which probably clued off the families as to the purpose of the visit. Percy made sure that when they visited, though, they missed meeting up with the Ministry officials (snatchers) who, as Percy had scheduled, would appear precisely one hour after Percy and Oliver started examining the doorbell and poking at the lawn gnomes to see if they would move.

Oliver tended to be much better at impersonating Muggles, however, so if it was absolutely unavoidable to miss the Ministry officials (snatchers), Oliver got the happy task of leading said officials on a wild goose chase, allowing the Muggleborn's hiding within and there Muggle families to get away. Oliver had almost as grand a time playing cat and mouse with the (snatchers) … as Percy did while dabbling in international politics.

"So, the, erm, are the Davenports are having a good vacation in Spain?" Percy asked carefully.

"Enjoying them-selves tremendously, as are the Smiths in Germany," Oliver replied, showing that he could, on occasion, have some form of discretion. "Some minor issues with … Muggle airport security, but nothing that couldn't be cleared up. What happened to you again?"

"Bill's mother-in-law, threw a carafe of wine at my head."

"Jeez, Perce. Your entire family really-do _hate_ you."

"You don't have to- _rub it in_ -like that, Oliver."

"Any better, Mr. Weasley?" asked a nurse, bustling over and smiling awkwardly at Oliver.

"I'm sure he's much better now that you're here," Oliver said, with a grin that would have shoved Gilderoy Lockhart off the cover of 'Witch Weekly'. "I know I am."

"It's so nice to see how much you care about Mr. Weasley's medical condition," the nurse replied, smiling at the two of them quite calmly now. Oliver looked rather put out. Meanwhile Percy, for the first time in what felt like centuries, grinned without caring that people could see him smile.

"I would quite like a cuppa of tea, if you don't mind," Percy said.

At that point in time, Eloise burst into the room, sobbing.

"Oh, hello Eloise," Percy said awkwardly, with a slight stirring of guilt. He hadn't really thought much about Eloise since he'd recruited Oliver. "I'm sure you remember Oliver Wood? Oliver, this is my-my… "

"Eloise!" exclaimed Oliver, having, quick shockingly, picked up her name from Percy's previous comment. "How are you?"

Eloise sniffed valiantly. "I'm- I'm much better than my poor Percy-poo!"

Percy winced. Penny had just called him 'Percy'. She hadn't been much into nicknames. "Honestly, I'm fine. Tea and a bit of bed rest and I'll be ready for work again."

Eloise completely lost composure at that point in time and threw herself over his lap.

"Oh, I say!" Percy protested, rather feebly, before realizing Eloise had been honestly, truly upset over him. It was… strange. He patted her on the back. "There, there."

Oliver attempted to eat his own fist again to keep from laughing hysterically.

"Could you make that, three cuppas of tea, please?" Percy asked the nurse.

The nurse appeared to be quite grateful for an excuse to leave, and took her time fetching the tea. Percy began to think that she'd had to Floo China for the tea-leaves when she reappeared and disappeared again almost as quickly.

"There, there," Percy told Eloise. "Have some tea."

Eloise did. Oliver appeared to prefer his fist to a nice cuppa of Earl Grey.

"Do you-lot remember Divination?" Eloise finally asked after regaining her composure, her mood brightening as soon as she took a sip. "I used to love Divination. Didn't you?"

"I always preferred Charms and Transfiguration myself," Percy replied, "even Potions classes were interesting, although Professor Snape made it difficult for us Gryffindor's. Even so in the long-run …I tended to be drawn to the hard, practical sciences. I found divination to be so horribly imprecise. It took me ages of trying to get a good vision going and even then I never got a precise time-frame to lock it down. Professor Sybill Trelawney said I had an undeveloped gift, but I found the whole concept horribly irritating".

"Mmph," Oliver said around his fist.

Eloise looked at him. "Is he okay?"

"He's just suffering from a 'chronic practicality syndrome' and a 'deep paranoia' for the imprecise", Oliver said while chuckling softly. "Seers like Trelawney and the irregularity of her future visions; frustrated him to no end. Percy always hated being imprecise. Nothing to worry about, Eloise, it's not contagious."

"Oh," said Eloise sounding a-tad confused.

"Mmph," said Oliver.

"You were saying?" Percy asked politely, sipping his tea. He did so enjoy earl gray tea. There was something very reassuring about it. Tea never pretended to be anything other than what it was.

"Do you remember telling your own fortune out of tea-leaves in Trelawney's class? Oh! That reminds me. I thought you might do with some cheering up, so I brought you some Tarot cards and a crystal ball." Eloise beamed at him. Oliver made strange choking noises.

"That was… really far too kind of you, Eloise." Percy said with forced politeness.

Oliver and Percy then sat through about an hour of Eloise reading their tea leaves (would you look at that? Percy was going to have two children, both girls. With his first child born in just over 'two years' from now.), by reading the Tarot cards (she saw loads of mortal danger for Percy, followed by more mortal danger, oh! And Look at that! - - Percy was going to have a girl-child named either, Molly or Lucy), and peering into the crystal ball (Eloise insisted that she saw Percy with an red-haired infant in his arms) and then hinted strongly that in order to have an infant so soon, Percy really needed to get married first … and was that giving him any ideas about taking her out to dinner?

Percy tried to ignore her insinuations. He really didn't expect to outlive the year he was in, and this was barely January of 1998. With the way things were going if he was careful and meticulous, he could help loads of people safely to the continent before Eloise, Oliver and him-self were all executed. But who was _he_ , really, to dare to stand against the power of Lord Voldemort too numerous to count minions?

If Percy let himself think about it, logically; he would be extraordinarily surprised that he and Oliver were still alive. After-all… they had been playing this game for months already; even before the 'Potter Gang' broke into the Ministry back in October. When Percy couldn't avoid thinking about it, he'd pull another all-nighter to make absolutely sure that their tracks were absolutely positively obliterated and then made sure that everything was set up for Oliver to make an escape the moment it became necessary to do so. Percy had plans for his own escape as well, but making sure Oliver's was air-tight was much more important to him, for some odd reason. After that, Percy would write long letters to Penny and then burn them. All in all, it made for a very dismal evening before he went back to simultaneously running and subverting the Ministry.

"I see a white dress for me," Eloise said, in a tone of considerable satisfaction, "And a bouquet of lilies. Do you see anything, Percy?"

"Not yet." Percy gamely cleared his mind and stared vacantly into the crystal ball. Several moments later, the vision hit him.

8888

 _Penelope appeared to be crying as she listened to the radio._

" _And we gave a big shout out to the Scarlet Pimpernel, whoever he - -"_

"- - _Or_ _ **she**_ _," interrupted a voice that Percy recognized as belonging to Angelica Johnson._

" _Or she," continued the voice of Lee Jordan, "Best of luck to you, mate… keep up the good work. If anyone has a way to contact the Pimpernel we've got lots of people who could still use_ _ **his - or - her**_ _expert help in getting out of the country. We've used-up all the magical passports he sent us last time. If not, remember, Royal still has some Muggle passports left …but you'll have to travel in the Muggle fashion out of the country."_

" _Correct", came the deep, booming voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt._

" _So, three cheers for the Scarlet Pimpernel, whoever he is! Or she is!"_

 _Then came the sounds of cheers from the radio and Penelope, sitting behind the counter, just behind the shop till, lifted her head out of her hands. Her face was puffy and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying, but she was grinning so broadly that Percy couldn't understand it at all._

" _And now… another shout-out to Harry, wherever you are, that we're all behind you old-chum. We know you'll succeed. This has been Potterwatch. Tomorrow's password is 'Pimpernel'."_

 _Penny turned down the volume on the radio, still grinning absurdly as a tall Frenchman walked into the shop, face obscured by all the boxes he carried._

" _You missed Potterwatch," she said in prefect French, still ridiculously happy. "Oh, he's doing great work."_

"Not bad for a mere Englishman _," the man replied (also in French), setting them down. He was handsome- much more attractive than Percy could ever hope to be - and Percy felt vaguely jealous. "I'll catch it next time. How's that Pimpernel guy doing?"_

" _He is doing fantastically," Penelope replied, (again in French), beaming. She slid off her stool and came around to unpack the boxes. She looked absolutely beautiful in Parisian couture, her skirt swinging about the tops of her knees enchantingly. "What are these?"_

" _We're using these music boxes to smuggle passports, back to Potterwatch" the man answered. "They are ugly boxes and the music is American. Mother couldn't sell them to anyone in France who wasn't tone-deaf. So they are prefect for the English. My mother is also a close friend of the chief member of the French version of the-_ _ **Legeau of the Pimpernel**_ _. She is one of the leaders of the French anti-Death Eater movement that is growing across France. She is one of many who welcomes and finds employment for the refugees coming from England. My mother ever so kindly - - drafted me into helping the English resistance and she has told me that your pimpernel has arranged a blind drop mailing address that's directly connected to the Potterwatch resistance."_

' _The pimpernel is a very clever man', Penny said proudly._

"You've met him haven't you? You know he's male and what he actually looks like. The Frenchmen asked, pressing hard for information which drove the smile from Penny's face. "The refugees we've gotten from the mass breakout all say that the Pimpernel wore a disguise. He was dressed as a commoner…

 _You m_ _en are all the same when it comes to clothes. I don't suppose you find fezes fashionable?"_

" _What?"_

" _It's a Turkish hat_ … oh _Never mind." She slit open a box just as another man walked in the door. Percy instantly recognized the man as one of the leaders of the Death Eater movement in Europe; his name was Rabastan Lestrange and he had escaped from Azkaban during the mass break out of 1996. He was one of a number of cold-blooded killers whom Delores had dispatched to the Continent with orders to spread the death Eater dogma against Muggleborn's. With Pius Thicknesse; commanding Percy to arrange for each of these 'missionaries' to be given full diplomatic immunity as an accredited ambassador._

 _Penelope picked up a music-box from the counter. "I think this would look marvelous in the display window - I'll go ask Madame." She clacked into the backroom and emerged with a round, smiling witch with curly dark hair spilling down to the shoulders of her expensive-looking robes._

" _Ah! Monsieur Lestrange!" cried the witch, holding out her hands. "I am happy to see you as always. Can I help you?"_

 _Penelope slid unobtrusively back to the stacks of boxes and began folding._

" _Yes, Madame," Lestrange said in barely understandable French, taking her hands and allowing himself to be kissed on both cheeks. "Your employee - the new one… she happens to be British and a convicted criminal - - as I am sure I have told you already."_

" _And as I have already told you, my employee has-_ _**Dual Citizenship**_ -as _her mother was born a Frenchwoman!" Madame protested, still good-naturedly. "Secondly; we French do not consider being a Muggleborn a crime."_

" _Laws can be changed Madame; besides this criminal_ _went to Hogwarts." Lestrange said._

"Then you should pity here for receiving a sub-par education _Pah. This all means nothing...no? Not everyone is lucky enough to attend the Beauxbatons Academy"_

" _She has to come with me for questioning. I'm reliably informed that she knows the identity of the criminal called the Pimpernel."_

 _Madame's round face became worried._

 _Penelope spoke up then. "I cannot go with you, Monsieur. For one thing I am a French citizen and not subject to the extradition laws of tyrannical England and secondly … I made several Unbreakable Vows when I agreed to work in this shop."_

" _What?"_

" _If I am forced to leave Paris; my magic and my memories as an Englishwoman vanish instantly", Penny said in a clam matter-of-fact tone. "I did this in anticipation of a Death Eater like your-self coming to collect me. - - Secondly: I promised to put my past as a refugee from under a foul dictatorship behind me. Thirdly; this shop is to magical France what Madame Markin's is to London … being male you might not know that in a mere fortnight is the beginning of-_ _ **Paris fashion week**_ _. All the serious designers have their employees to make an Unbreakable Vow not to reveal any secrets or leave their employment until the line is finished."_

 _Madame caught on quickly. "Yes- this is true. I have no problem with her submitting to lawful questioning … under French supervision, of course. But the pressure is on to finish up before fashion week and she is a fantastic seamstress - which I knew the moment she entered my shop. I can't possibly let her go until she finishes the shawls. This season hand-charmed embroidery is all the rage. And Then I'll need additional shawls for the-_ _ **Milan Fashion Show**_ _– beginning next month - - Here, show him."_

 _Penelope very quietly pulled out a massive length of white fabric and spread it out over the counter. It looked to be half- finished and filled with intricately embroidered flower designs._

" _You see? - Absolutely stunning… but so very time consuming!"_

 _Rabastan Lestrange sighed heavily. "With dual citizenship you already know I cannot force the issue… nor does the legitimate government of the United Kingdom wish to interfere with free trade… especially during fashion week. Under the existing Laws of France I can deny you nothing Madame. Be aware however, that I have friends in France… powerful friends who feel as I do concerning the spreading disease called; Mudblood… Alright for now I am unable to take this creature away with me. But as soon as the laws protecting her kind are reversed or that shawl is finished, I will know of it and return for a long overdue chat."_

 _The handsome Frenchman took Lestrange by the arm. He positively_ towered _over the British ambassador in a completely ambivalent, non-threatening way that was none-the-less incredibly intimidating. Very pleasantly so: "We have to get my Mother's music-boxes out now. If you would be so kind…?" he showed Lestrange the door and Rabastan recognizing the situation went through it in a hurry._

" _Looks like your cover is blown," the handsome Frenchman said._

 _Madame sat pensively behind the counter. "He will find out we lied about the Unbreakable Vow. You ought to head to the countryside at once."_

" _I'm the only Pimpernel league liaison to be found in Paris," Penelope said dispiritedly. "I have to be here to send these music boxes to Potterwatch."_

" _But this shop will be watched from now on and if you finish…." Madame plucked at the shawl. And Percy suddenly noticed, with a secret thrill of delight, that the flowers were all scarlet pimpernels._

" _I will not finish, then. Draw the curtains, Luc." Penelope pulled up a stool and, taking a needle out of a drawer, began to painstakingly pick out the stitches._

 _Luc came back and looked over Penelope's shoulder. "Brilliant."_

" _Thank you." Penny said with obvious affection toward the handsome Frenchman called Luc._

 _888_

Percy pulled back slowly and shook his head. He never really liked Divination; he knew he had 'the gift' and had rejected Trelawney's offer precisely because it felt an awful lot like spying. Most important of all it was so unreliable talent and imprecise, too. How could one be sure that they were seeing the actual future?

"Did you see something, Perce?" Eloise asked eagerly.

"Er," said Percy. "ah yes… I saw Oliver win a Quidditch match. It looked like to me; that he was playing for England in the World Cup."

"You think they'd bring it back?" Oliver asked, full of hope.

"Oh, yes, undoubtedly. Just as soon as all this … is over."

"You think it'll be over soon?" Eloise asked.

Percy didn't know how to answer.

He went home that night (to his flat) and slept badly. He re-read Penelope's later and drank a few more cups of tea. He dumped out the tea-leaves before he could see what they wanted to tell him (even reading tea-leaves wasn't what it appeared to be these days), and forced himself to eat, since he had been surviving on caffeine gum for the past few days. He went to a Muggle store that was opened all night and bought bread and butter and jam. He had loved it when he was younger and would've gotten sick on it if he hadn't always shared with his younger siblings. He sliced the loaf into thick slices and liberally spread butter on it. He then unscrewed the jar of black-current jam and spread it on thinly, so that the butter showed through. After the first few slices, he made one for Hermes, reread his letter, and wished dreadfully for Penny.

He missed her with an almost palpable ache that had absolutely nothing to do with eating too much bread with jam and butter. He sat on the middle of his normally pristine bed, with crumbs of bread and bits of melted jam and butter all over the duvet, and stared out the window. He was probably going to love Penelope until he died. It was just one of those things.

Percy had been falling in love with her …since he turned fifteen. He really wasn't all that surprised that he had stayed in love with just one girl …all this time? Ron had with Granger after all. - - Generally speaking, the wizarding world had a very small dating pool. You grew up knowing you'd marry someone you met at Hogwarts, unless you went into the diplomatic service or something and married abroad. Knowing that Granger was going to abandon Ron out of love for Harry someday …Percy had always, in some distant corner of his mind, planned on getting Ron a position with the diplomatic service. In far off Greece or Moldavia a heartbroken Ron could get a fresh start. For like his youngest brother Percy deeply wished to be married.

Percy had wanted… painfully wanted, everything that his father was too lazy, too idiosyncratic to work for. Percy would have a job that meant something, with a large salary and plenty of power and influence. He'd also have a big house, big enough so that if he wanted to be alone he could sit with a book and not be bothered by anyone else, not ever. He wanted one child, or possibly two, but no more than three. He wouldn't mind if two of them were girls he'd love them all equally and take them into work and never, ever let the middle child feel alone and unloved as he had been.

He would host dinner parties for the English Ministers and foreign heads of state and then smile down the table at his wife, thanks to the House-elves he would be able to afford. So instead of staying home with the children, she would have a career of her own. With both spouses successful; she would smile back at him - - because he had helped her achieve everything she had ever wanted. Being supportive of the women in our lives was another Weasley trait that Ron best typified? Not that Granger ever acknowledged all that Ron had done for her …that ungrateful witch. Poor Ronnie … getting him in the diplomatic service after Granger dumped him was his only chance at recovery… at finding a girl who'd love him back.

Percy brushed the crumbs off of his bed as he finished off the loaf and the butter and the jam, and crawled under the duvet. He had come very far from the dreams he'd had as a child. He lay alone, in a scarcely used apartment and was probably going to caught and executed real soon.

Sleep came only slowly after that, so Percy went into the office at six-thirty.

Dolores Umbridge was waiting. "Recovered, Percy?"

"Yes, Dolores. Apparently Madame Delacour missed my head by inches, so no glass shards in the skull."

"How _horrid_ of her to break a carafe of wine like that!"

"It was apparently a good vintage, too," Percy interjected mildly. "Quite the pity. I thought the French were oenophiles. Did you need me to do something?"

"Yes! What's left of the Auror department technicians has finally traced the Scarlet Pimpernel's handwriting." Dolores smiled. She had really horrible smiles. "I'm sending you with an Auror."

"To?"

"To visit Gilderoy Lockhart, of course."

Percy smiled. He loved it when he out-thought Dolores Umbridge. Some days she really was as dense as a neuron star. "I'll get right on it."

The snatcher who had been recently promoted to Auror was extremely uncomfortable about being so close to 'nut-jobs' and elected to stay as far away as possible from Percy. "Hello," said the witch in charge of the- _**Janus Thickey**_ -ward. "I suppose you're back to see Gilderoy? Where is Oliver this evening? You know, Gilderoy a lmost remembered his name! Didn't you, Gilderoy?"

"Ollie!" Lockhart exclaimed happily.

Percy managed to retain the dignity that came with being the most powerful twenty-year-old in the wizarding world and Assistant to the Minister of Magic himself by thumbing through his notes and mentally marking grammatical mistakes. "Yes, well, Ollie- I mean, Oliver is off flying somewhere and I'm not here as a visitor today …I've come on _official_ Ministry business."

"Might we have a private word with Mr. Lockhart?" the Auror asked stepping up nervously and conjuring up three chairs.

"Of course," the Healer agreed, sitting.

Percy sat, took off his glasses, and polished them with a corner of his robes. "I am sorry for this, but some fan of Mr. Lockhart has, er… been interfering with Ministry business, so we have to ask some questions."

"Oh it really is no problem," the Healer said. "I've been reading the papers. The Scarlet Pimpernel is it?"

"Yes." Percy sighed, "Unfortunately."

"One of his fans gave Gilderoy the book," the Healer said, with in a memory gap that Percy was very grateful for. "He does so adore it. Sir Percy is his favorite character. Why, even the Longbottom's are starting to get a kick out of it. We think. Frank smiles when he hears Gilderoy reading it and seems to have taken a shine to cravats. Alice- well, Alice is Alice. We were going to have a little costume party to celebrate everyone's interest."

Percy cleared her throat. "I'm not sure a party would be entirely appropriate anymore."

"Oh? No, I suppose not. What a pity, though. I think it could have done some real good."

The Auror/snatcher spoke up next. "How long has Mr. Lockhart been obsessed with the book?"

"Hm…." The Healer tapped her chin. "It must be a half a year now. He's been copying down the poem ever since he got the book. We encouraged it because it helps him with his hand-eye coordination and his memory skills. His writing has really so improved!"

"What has he been doing with the copies of the poem?" the Auror asked.

"Sending them to his fans for the most part, he keeps a stack of them in the table by his bed."

The Auror sighed. "Does he keep a record of his fan letters?"

"No. That is a little bit beyond him and we are so short-staffed here; there really is no one who can be spared to do that."

"This is a very well-run ward, however. I suppose the security is very, ah-" Percy asked

"Oh yes! If our patients wandered off … they could do themselves considerable harm."

The Auror sighed again. This was going to be a very long day. "Alright. Might we have a word with Mr. Lockhart, then?"

"But of course. It is almost time for his tea, but we can put it off."

"Good." Turning to the bed and pulling out a note: "Do you recognize this, Mr. Lockhart?"

"Yes, it's mail!" Lockhart held his hands out for it. The Auror gave it to him and he opened it eagerly. "Oh, this is a poem!"

"Do you know what it is?" Percy asked.

"Oh yes!" Lockhart said, beaming toothily. "It was in that book. I wrote it down because I can do joined-up writing. Then Father Christmas came to see me and asked me to write the poem over and over again in scarlet ink- because lilac ink is so special. I can only use it for autographs you-know - and when I was done he took them all away. I was a very good boy, though, and I shall get lots of presents!"

The Auror next to Percy held her head in her hands while Percy nodded at Gilderoy. God bless Oliver, and his inexplicable talent for play-acting. Percy had never seen a more convincing Father Christmas.

"Father Christmas took all the poems away, then?"

"Oh yes! The elves were all busy, you see, and I'm the best joined-up writing writer in all of Britain. Father Christmas told me so himself!"

"I see," Percy said very seriously.

"Yes, and I have been sending off the same poem to my fans. I do get such a large amount of fan mail. It is difficult to keep up now that I send a picture _and_ a poem, but anything for the fans!"

"Yes, of course."

The Auror looked close to tears but managed to ask, "And… how many fans to you have Mr. Lockhart?"

"At least fifty who write in regularly," replied the healer, drifting by. "Ever since You-Know-Who has come back, Gilderoy's books have been shooting off the shelves! He gets so many letters now, don't you Gilderoy?"

"Oh, yes!" Lockhart exclaimed, beaming toothily. "And I always make sure that I include lots of poems for them to pass out to their little friends. Father Christmas will be so pleased with me!"

The Auror had to leave the room.

Percy smiled. "I am glad that you have been writing so. Oliver and I have been, er, fans of yours since our sixth year at Hogwarts."

"How long have you been partners?" Lockhart asked.

"Er… about… six months now," Percy said honestly, though he had no idea what on earth _Lockhart_ was talking about.

"My nurse explained it. Some wizards like other wizards. That's alright."

Percy nearly choked. "What? No, Oliver and I aren't- no. We aren't… _that close_."

"I was hoping you'd been partners since your sixth year," Lockhart continued on, with an interesting defiance to any sort of logic whatever. "That way, my books would have brought people together!"

"Um," said Percy, whose first date ever _had_ stemmed from Lockhart trying to set up Penelope with Rodger Davis (Percy had pretended to be her boyfriend in order to keep her from having to snog Davis, and he later turned out to be Penny's real boyfriend after all… for too brief a time). "Well. I really must be going. Good bye, Mr. Lockhart. For your sake, I hope you never recover your memory."

8888

Percy Flooed directly back to the Ministry, where Dolores, too edgy to do her own work, waited for him by the fireplace. "Well?"

Percy hazarded a guess. "Well, it looks like some fan of Mr. Lockhart's has gone off the deep end. He's been writing the letters, but there is absolutely no way he could have gotten out of the hospital to do what the Pimpernel has done. Besides that, he's been sending off those letters to every single one of his fans. A simply copier charm could make endless amounts of the rubbish poems. We're quite…."

His voice trailed off as he caught sight of a figure lying in a heap in the middle of the Atrium.

"She had suspicious connections to several Mudblood's," Dolores said, in a offhanded manner with a thoroughly unpleasant smile. "Then she resisted questioning. But we didn't get anything useful out of the retch. Too scatterbrained to begin with I suppose. So tracing the notes is another dead end… eh?"

"You could take some of the new-Aurors off of the ' _ **Potter Gang**_ ' inquiry and formulate a task-force to concentrate on finding the Scarlet Pimpernel," Percy muttered, slightly shaken. There was something about the twitching figure - she looked horribly familiar.

"Hum. Good idea actually …we've gotten nowhere on the search for Potter. I'll go and see to it." Dolores walked off, leaving Percy to struggle through the crowds. He'd have to go past the body to get to his office, how awful, especially since she - - - Percy stopped dead in his tracks.

"Eloise?" he asked, horror-struck, as he approached the body everyone else avoided in the center of the atrium. He turned her over and saw the friendly face, now horrifically pale, with the nose off-center.

"I… I didn… didn't tell 'em… anything," Eloise whispered, struggling to sit up.

"No, don't strain yourself," Percy said, pushing her hair out of her face. "Are you gravely injured?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Come on, we'll Floo to St. Mungo's. No, Apperate. Are you feeling well enough for Side-Along-Side Apparition? They've got wards up in the waiting room, so we'll have to walk up to the display window-"

"No… use," Eloise whispered. Each word seemed to cost her a great deal of effort. "They've… got that covered… too. No use going - - I'm a registered blood traitor now. They won't let me in. Besides … I… know… too… much. Let… too many… things… slip, they… said. But didn't… tell 'em…."

"Tell them what?" Percy asked, latching desperately onto something, anything.

"That you… are… the Sc… not saying…. I know… though." She tried to smile. "Don't… know… why… I'm… not… dead… yet…."

"You'll -" Percy tried to say, 'you'll be alright', I can get a private Healer to come - - to my flat and fix-you-up; but that outburst really couldn't have been farther from the truth. "The curse is probably slow acting," Percy replied instead, feeling abjectly miserable; "to put you in the maximum amount of pain for as long as possible. I'm so sorry Eloise. I didn't really think of anyone's danger but my-own - -"

"Oh shut it," Eloise murmured softly, her voice no louder than the hiss of hot-water as it was poured over tea. Percy looked down at her numbly.

"You… you did fancy… me… right?" she breathed, so softly that Percy had to kneel down completely and put his ear by her lips.

"Yes, Eloise," Percy said. "I really did."

"Oh that's good." And with that, she fell silent and still. Something inside of Percy froze and crumbled. He sat back, his knees pressing down painfully into the cold linoleum floor.

Without really caring what anyone else did or said, Percy attempted to pick her up.

"Let me give you a hand with that," Oliver said, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere. He had muscles from Quidditch that Percy certainly hadn't gained from too little sleep and all his mountains of paperwork. Oliver picked up Eloise as easily as if she were a rag-doll.

"I heard they caught onto Gilderoy Lockhart," Oliver said, looking very-shaken. "Came as soon as I could… And - - and Eloise?"

Percy couldn't look straight at Oliver. "She was friends with a bunch of Muggleborn's. She-she guessed at who I was and resisted questioning. The Ministry probably thought she was harboring Muggleborn's and…." Percy trailed off and gestured at Eloise, flopping out of Oliver's arms.

They Flooed to Eloise's family home in south London. Once they were through, Percy flicked his wand and caused the entire Floo network to shut down. Obsessive memo-reading (and twelve O.W.L.s) could come in handy at times - - Percy took the rest of the day off. He transfigured Eloise's work robes into a long white dress and then went out and bought a huge bouquet of lilies. Eloise's parents and sisters cried through the funeral that night, then took the Portkey that Percy created, along with the appropriate travel papers and magical Passports to Spain. Percy was very good at such details. For the rest of that night, he and Oliver sat together on Percy's old couch and drank white wine the color of Eloise's dress. They didn't say anything because if either of them talked, they just _knew_ that they would ask each other if they were going to die. - - Neither of them really knew what they would say in response.

OoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 10

In which Percy acts like a Pyromaniac

8888

Several weeks later, after several daring rescues in Eloise's name and a lot of perfectly delightful meetings with frustrated Aurors, Percy got called into Dolores Umbridge's office.- - He had no idea why Thicknesse was there, too, but Dolores looked vaguely uncomfortable in a way that boded little good for Percy.

"Percy," Dolores said, clearing her throat. "I think I may have made a teensey-weensey little mistake about you."

"Yes?" Percy asked. Not good, not good, _not good!_

"You haven't really had time for my dinner parties, I've noticed."

"Er," said Percy.

"Now … now, Percy, at first I thought it was embarrassment over the whole Penelope Clearwater debacle … but how was I to know about your… little secret?"

Percy honestly had no idea where they were going with this. If they knew he was the Scarlet Pimpernel, he very much doubted they would quiz him on his dinner party attendance. Besides that, he really didn't have any secrets. Granted, having an alter ego and a secret mission to undermine the Ministry of Magic itself sort of topped the list, but, still. What were they going to pin him for? Dolores had left when he took Eloise's body back to her family, and everyone else had been very busy Not Looking at Eloise. His family had fled the country- was that it? Everyone knew that Percy didn't speak with his family; it couldn't be that….

Thicknesse gave Percy an awkward smile. Worse and worse. "You know Percy; as long as you're discrete it really doesn't matter who you bunk-up with … as long as it's a pure-blood."

Percy blinked.

"Oliver Wood comes from an excellent background," Dolores Umbridge ventured.

Percy stared. Did they really…?

"There's no reason to be ashamed," Dolores continued on. "I checked up on you in St. Mungo's when you had to leave early-"

"Terrible headache still," Percy murmured.

"-and they listed Oliver Wood as your next of kin. Now, Percy, he's a… Quidditch player, true, but that's still a respectable career, and he's pure-blood. I suppose that nasty Mudblood put you off women altogether… but at least it turned you back to your proper social level. That's all we can ask, really. Now, I'm having a dinner party on Friday. Would you _and_ Oliver like to attend?"

Did everyone think he and Oliver Wood were sleeping together? Percy felt his ears turning red at the very thought. "Er, I'll, er… ask him."

"Oh, he doesn't go in much for dinner parties?" Dolores asked. "Well, see if he can make the effort, just this once. We're all very impressed at your work, Percy, and you ought to take more of a role in international politics. I've got everyone _important_ over for lamb this Friday." She gave an unpleasant laugh.

Oh, if she only _knew_ his role in international politics….

"I will, er, see what I can do to convince him," Percy ventured, albeit rather timidly. "Oliver's, not, er, fond of dinner parties at all. I'm not sure he owns a set of dress robes. I'm sure Madame Malkin can make something for him by then."

He avoided looking at anyone else that day, but they _would_ come up to him and tell him that hey, it was perfectly fine if he was, well… you know. Percy knew exactly how Delores felt about gays and that everyone was suddenly very supportive, particularly as Oliver was just as pure-blooded as Percy was. This blatant hypocrisy smacked to Percy as an act of pure desperation as the Ministry these days was a ghost town, with entire departments shut down due to zero 'loyal' workers. They needed him to keep things going …more than ever. Anyone even remotely competent had vanished …replaced by barely literate Death Eaters in middle and upper management positions. The damage these fools were doing was more harmful than a half-dozen well placed bombs.

Percy felt personally humiliated and at the same time extraordinarily glad that the rest of Europe had greatly reduced all diplomatic ties with Wizarding Britain. Trade was down enormously and the entire economy was suffering. This didn't affect the Death Eaters at all regretfully. The seizer of Muggleborn homes and business had kept the treasury full… as had the forced reduction in the Ministry workforce.

Percy dealt with the situation by being unusually vicious about misspelled memos - - and while Dolores was out, sending an anonymous letter to _The Daily Prophet_ and the better quality European newspapers explaining with accompanying evidence on just how far from the establish international magical law the Thicknesse administration had gone. He then popped out and left large posters of the Pimpernel poem on the doors of each and every (empty) Muggle family home which he had anonymously sent into hiding or sent off to the Continent. The best part about the posters, Percy thought, as the Aurors/snatchers 'shame-facedly' tried to hand them over to Dolores, was that once someone took them down, the posters stuck to the remover.

Even if you changed clothes.

Or went to St. Mungo's.

Or tried to sand-paper it off.

Percy felt rather proud of him-self, and after brainstorming for a-bit, managed to convince Oliver that, if they were really going to do this, they had to go to Dolores Umbridge's dinner party. Oliver wasn't very keen on losing his considerable female fan-base …but agreed to go on the grounds that, when they made a very bad attempt at pretending to be a couple in _The Golden Snitch_ , Oliver had gotten swarmed with young witches who were all very determined to convince him that "Percy and the boy-on-boy stuff… was just a phase".

Thus, they found themselves stepping out of the fire-place into Dolores Umbridge's long, fussily … and grossly decorated hallway. - "The only thing worse than my new robes," Oliver said, tugging at the sleeve of his maroon dress-robes. "Is the lack of taste in this house? I'd be laughed off the Quidditch pitch if I wore these."

"So you want to play Quidditch with Dolores Umbridge?" Percy asked, a touch acidly.

"I'm in withdrawal, Perce, I swear. D'you-know how long it's been, since I got knocked off my broomstick by a bludger?"

Percy guessed.

Oliver scowled. "Dammit. How is it you knew it up to the minute?"

"Knowing the little details mixed with a photographic memory is a frightful combination. Now look, do you remember what I told you? We're here for a very specific reason; Oliver and I need you to remember that."

Oliver sighed. "It's better than the red suit, at least." He grimaced at several kittens gamboling about on porcelain plates. "This is so-"

"Lovely, isn't it?" Percy asked loudly, as Dolores Umbridge came to greet them and usher them into her cramped, frilly dining room. "Stop slouching Oliver."

Umbridge, with a very forced; amphibian-like smile, introduced them to the heads of the Great Wizarding Families and most of the heads of the few remaining departments and their spouses. Percy found it rather satisfying to be introduced first, with Oliver awkwardly introduced as "Percy's… particular friend". Percy had always hoped someday to be more popular than his Quidditch Captain roommate.

Dinner was a bleak and nauseating affair, full of forced and awkward conversation. Department Heads complaining how little they were able to get done. Percy counted frills when he wasn't asking polite and appropriate questions at the proper intervals in monologues but had to give up when he reached three hundred and sixty two frills and seventy painted pictures of kittens. Oliver ended up trying to eat his fist after giving up on the grossly undercooked lamb and on following the conversation of people far more clueless than Gilderoy on his slowest day. Percy wished for Penelope again. He was sure she'd be able to follow even this Death Eater conversation. Of course, Penelope was Muggle-born, and everyone at the table would gladly eat her instead of the raw lamb.

Percy shuddered and pretended it was because of the sorbet.

It made Percy realize again, that Eloise was dead and if he wasn't careful, Percy would be following her into death. He nudged Oliver under the table.

"Sorry, Ms. Umbridge," Oliver said, with a grin that would have knocked Gilderoy Lockhart off the cover of 'Witch Weekly'. "Where might, I find the, ah…?"

"Oh, down the hall and to the left."

"Turn right," Percy muttered. Percy had managed to find a floor plan of Umbridge's house in the Ministry records. "Bedside table, heard her mention it."

Oliver returned five minutes later, looking completely unconcerned. Percy raised his eyebrows and Oliver tripped over his own feet, knocking the treacle tart onto the Minister of Magic himself. As Oliver apologized volubly and rubbed the treacle deeper into the Minister's robes, Percy hexed everyone's drinks.

Percy cleared his throat and feigned deep embarrassment. "Thank you very much for dinner, Dolores, but I'm afraid we must be going."

"So sorry about the treacle tart," Oliver said again.

"Come on Oliver." Percy scooted out his chair and, as he passed by Dolores muttered, "This is why we don't go to dinner parties."

Dolores nodded, with a simpering expression of sympathy. "Of course." She picked up her glass and sipped from it delicately. Percy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, but pretended to duck his head out of embarrassment.

"As always, you are the soul of understanding. Come on, Oliver." Percy and Oliver ran out, just as Dolores Umbridge turned green and fought to keep down her dinner. Sometimes it paid to have Fred and George as brothers.

"Got it," Oliver said, grinning, as soon as they tumbled back into Percy's flat. He held up a key.

"Fantastic!" Percy said, beaming and taking the key from Oliver. "Friday evening, we move. Dolores has got the files of every single witch and wizard under suspicion locked-up in her office. When I found this out, I had all back-up files on blood status destroyed in what will look like a Thicknesse ordered 'records purge'. Once the records in Dolores office are gone as well …it will be impossible for anyone left in the Ministry to tell who is of magical birth and who is born of Muggle's. "

Oliver sprawled on Percy's couch. "I'm glad we're going to stop the Muggleborn genocide."

"We already have for the most part; most Muggleborn's are in hiding among Muggles in the countryside …or out of the country entirely. Destroying the Umbridge records will make it nearly impossible to convict anyone the snatchers catch of the crime of being a Muggleborn. Those considered Blood traitors are still at risk because they are under suspicion … but without Delores records life will be loads easier for all the disloyal".

"However; the purge of our magical population has negatively affected our Death Eater masters in one way … I've recently read a number of memos from Thicknesse telling his snatchers to 'go-easy' on any pure-bloods they capture…their heavy handed methods have driven many in the pure-blood population to flee the country as well… including some the Ministry considered loyal. Not the openly Death Eater sympathizers or direct collaborators but enough of the pure-blood 'commoners' to be troubling".

"So the tradesmen (sheep) are slipping away…eh?" Oliver said with a chuckle

"Precisely; Thickness is considering travel restrictions to stem the talent drain", Percy said offhandedly. "Do you want a cauldron cake to settle your stomach? That dinner was ruddy-awful." Percy rooted around in his cupboards and wondered why he never seemed to find the time to go grocery shopping.

"Well, does this mean we're not going to last much longer?"

Percy stared at the back of his cupboard. "I'm honestly surprised we've lasted this long."

"Yeah I get that. But if I had my druthers, I'd… rather go out with a bang, you know?"

"Might as well, since we're on borrowed time now." Percy pulled out a package of cakes and tossed it to Oliver. "Well, we're covered for now. Everyone thinks our big secret is our torridly gay love affair. Being gay is loads better than being dead, isn't it?"

Oliver tore open the packaging and split the cake in half. "You got that in one; A lot of things are better than being dead. - - Oi; Perce, were you ever any good at divination?"

Percy took the smaller half of the cake and took a bite. "I got a NEWT in it. Why?"

"I'd like to know what to tell my parents. I can't figure out if it's better to tell them that we're… dating… or if I've been smuggling Muggleborn's out of the country."

"Oh the tragedies of your life," Percy said, around his mouthful of cauldron cake. "What do you need a seer's vision for?"

"Well; I'd like to know how long I have to live," Oliver replied, examining his cake. "If it's going to be just a couple of weeks I might as well tell them the truth. - - If not, I ought to protect them, get them out of the country with one of your fake passports. You're almost lucky you don't have to worry about that, Perce. All the Weasley's vanished months ago"

"I suppose." Percy dug around his closet looking through storage boxes until he found his long abandoned crystal ball, left over from cramming for NEWTs. "It always takes me ages, though."

They sat and stared at the crystal ball until Oliver fell asleep. Percy stared on, until he could see something at last.

8888

 _They were both ragged and weary and smudged and bruised and bloody. They were sitting on a rock by the lake at Hogwarts. Well, no, Oliver was stretched out behind future-Percy._

" _I honestly didn't think it would end this way," Percy saw himself say, as he held his head in his hands. "I really didn't."_

 _Oliver didn't say anything and Percy was suddenly horribly afraid, that Oliver was dead._

Percy shook the crystal ball until it told him something, anything else.

 _It was the French shop again, Penelope behind the counter._

" _Mademoiselle Audrey, are you done with that shawl yet?" Rabastan Lestrange asked, turning abruptly from his conversation with Penelope's employer._

 _Penelope shook her head and dismally showed him the shawl. "Six-elevenths of the way through."_

" _Look how complicated this is!" Penelope's employer said. "Audrey has been doing such a lovely job, hasn't she? The flowers all form the petals of increasingly large flowers. Lovely, isn't it?"_

" _You'll come with us yet, Mademoiselle Audrey. There is a bill pending in the French assembly stripping all internationally convicted magical criminals of all civil rights under French Law"_

 _Penelope ducked her head until he left the shop._

" _I hate that guy," said the handsomer-than-Percy-Frenchman. "Let me hex him-"_

" _Luc-Esprit, don't you have dummies to enchant?" Madame demanded. The Frenchman sulkily went to the back-room and reappeared with bags full of face-less heads._

" _At least turn on the radio, I'm desperate for some music, eh?" Luc-Esprit asked._

 _Madame turned the radio up just in time to hear Lee Jordan say, "- - - at Hogwarts right now! This is it, ladies and gentlemen; there is a major Battle brewing at the moment over Hogwarts! We will keep you posted as best we can, but I can confirm that Harry Potter is at Hogwarts right-now and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gathering his followers to go there too. This looks like the final showdown. Contact Aberforth Dumbledore in Hogsmeade if you want to be a part of this momentous occasion, to free England from Death Eater tyranny._

 _If your children are at Hogwarts; I have been reliably informed that all students that are under the age of seventeen are being sent home. Some of the older students and some members of the staff have voluntarily decided to stay and fight with Harry. Stick by your wireless sets witches and wizards and we will tell you what happens as it happens. This broadcast is going live from fighting for Hogwarts. This is really it, folks. This is the Battle for Hogwarts."_

 _The three of them huddled around the wireless, Penelope picking out each individual stitch in the darkened shop, with the windows closed and the doors locked._

8888

Percy came out of the trance with a jerk. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. The battle for Hogwarts? It didn't seem real. Voldemort at Hogwarts, really….

He was troubled all throughout the next day and ended up locking his door so that he didn't get any memos.

This didn't stop Dolores Umbridge from knocking on his door. "Percy, a word?"

"Yes?" Percy asked, looking up from a disguised Scarlet Pimpernel novel. "How can I help you, Dolores?"

"The key to my file cabinet is missing."

"What?" Percy asked, schooling his expression. "The - - _that - -_ key? - - to _that_ file cabinet?" In a feat of what he considered rather good theatrics, he broke his quill in half. " _That key_?"

"Yes, _that key_ ," Dolores said, furious.

"Where did you keep it?" Percy asked, adding a convincing note of hysteria to his voice. "If it's _that key_ to _that file cabinet_ you kept it in an extremely safe place… I imagine-"

"I kept it on my person at work but at home, it's kept in my bedroom," Dolores snapped. She turned to Percy with sudden suspicion. "How long have you known Oliver, Percy?"

"Since I was eleven," Percy replied, feigning confusion. "Why?"

"He… wouldn't have disloyal- _sympathies_ , would he?"

No no no no no no no no no. This was bad. This was really, really, really bad. Percy couldn't care less if he lived or died, but Oliver - -

"- - Why would he?" Percy asked, trying to look deeply puzzled instead of deathly terrified. "I heard - well, didn't other people go into that part of the house? I overheard Avery saying there was an unfortunate run on the loo after we had to leave…."

"Percy," Dolores said, with a sickly sweet sort of patience, "no one here doubts 'your loyalty', but you have, in the past, made very, very bad judgments when you choose which _people_ to be loyal to."

"That is true," Percy replied, in all honesty. "But Oliver? I don't think so. He only cares about Quidditch and er… well, other… athletic… activities. Why would he ever care about Mudbloods?"

"You tell me." Dolores pressed her lips together. "I advise you, Percy, to make sure you can trust Wood. After all, there was that Mudblood girl." She turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. "Whatever happened to her?"

Percy stiffened. "Jugson and then Macnair had their fun. Then a Dementor's kiss…I suppose."

He could hear the grin in her voice. "Ah. Perhaps you do know how to deal with betrayers after all."

Percy stared at his desk until she closed the door behind her. He then very calmly undid all the complex charms on the hidden drawer in the leg of his desk, and withdrew a package containing a passport, an airplane ticket, a thick wad of Muggle money, and a key. He hid the key in the inner pocket of his sweater-vest, right underneath his pocket protector.

After flicking through some old memos, Percy fiddled with his fireplace and tossed in some Floo powder. He spun into the- _**Leaky Cauldron**_ -and Flooed all over England until he was dizzy before eventually landing in a tea shop a mile away from Oliver's flat. Percy enchanted his appearance, his wand shaking in his hands, and Oliver's apartment. "Pst! Oliver! It's Percy!"

"What's my dream present?"

"A Firebolt 2000. Now please, I-"

"Hang on, ask me a question! You can't be too careful."

Percy sighed,. "I don't have time for this, Oliver. Fine. What's my favorite filing system?"

"Alphabetical."

"Can you hurry up now and open the door?"

Oliver blearily did so, his hair rumpled and his pajama top misbuttoned. "Come in, then."

"Here." Percy thrust the package at Oliver and shut the door. "Take this. You're going to America."

"Hunh?"

Percy took off his glasses and rubbed his face. "The Ministry suspects you, Oliver. You've got to go."

"What are you - -"

"You could be arrested as soon as tonight or maybe even sooner… you've got to flee now, Oliver."

Oliver stared gob smacked for a moment before saying: "What about you, Perce?"

Percy's hands shook so badly he dropped his glasses. "You don't need to worry - - they don't suspect me, Oliver. Not a jot. They just think I've got terrible taste in romantic partners."

"Perce-"

Percy managed to pick up his glasses and put them on. "Oliver, people like you. The world will miss, I'm… well, I haven't any family that'd acknowledge me and you're the only friend I've got. I've already sent a Pimpernel note telling your family to flee to America and yes I sent them passports too. As for me; If I… if I can do this one last thing, if I can end this persecution of the innocents…." He managed a smile. "I've always lived for myself. Maybe I can… make up for it, a little."

"Perce… you're… signing your own death warrant here. There's no way you can get out of this one alive …especially if you're working on your own. As soon as you unlock the cabinet, the alarms will go off… "

"… giving me just enough time to use one of the twins best fireworks and destroy all the files. I calculated this act precisely, Oliver; down to the second."

Oliver glared. "Without me to stave off security, _as we planned,_ how can you be sure?"

"Because I refuse to die leaving something undone," Percy said, with something that might pass for a smile. "You know me, Oliver. I may not be a master dueler, but I move quickly and efficiently and I'm a good hand with a defensive spell."

"I'm not leaving," Oliver said, fiercely. "You can't make me."

"Oliver, you're my only friend, and the only one who can properly tell the tale of the magical Scarlet Pimpernel" Percy replied. "I've given up nearly everything for ambition and then I gave up everything else to be the Pimpernel. Please don't ask me to - -"

"I'm not _asking_ for anything," Oliver said, disappearing into his bedroom. "I'm _telling_ you that we're doing this tonight as soon as the human toad leaves her office."

"Oliver! You can't - - look, you have no reason to throw away your life, think of all the girls …your fans-"

Oliver, pulling a clean shirt on, pointedly turned on the radio. "What was that? I couldn't hear your stupid protests."

"Oliver, you're not coming."

Oliver turned up the radio. "Still can't hear you, oh mighty Pimpernel!"

Lee Jordan's voice suddenly cut through the bad pop music. "- - Potterwatch has been reliably informed and Harry Potter and Hermione Granger along with a 'as yet' unidentified third associate; conducted a raid on Gringotts bank, right under the noses of the Ministry thugs guarding the bank - they broke into the Lestrange vault, before breaking out of Gringotts on the back of a dragon and were last reported flying towards Hogwarts! This is it, people! It's down to the wire! If You-Know-Who wins - -"

"Shove it Lee," said Angelina Jordan. "He's not going to win. Potter can defeat him."

"If he doesn't, though," Lee said uncertainly.

Percy and Oliver shared a look and Oliver turned off the radio.

"Either way you look at it," Oliver said, "I'm going to die today. This is most-likely our last chance to harm Umbridge and her crowd. If- if …You-Know-Who wins, then we'll never be able to do this again and I'll be stuck in America, where they don't even play Quidditch."

"We can only hope that most of the Ministry 'loyal' will be called to fight at Hogwarts." Percy tucked his wand into his sleeve. "Dolores always leaves at five-o-clock. It is four-fifteen right now. I imagine she and all the other Death-Eaters supporters will leave for Hogwarts very soon, but we ought to wait. Got everything in order?"

Thirty minutes later; Percy checked the clock on the wall again. "Four-fifty-three… Let's go." He lit a fire and tossed in a handful of Floo powder and said: " _The Ministry of Magic_!" He stumbled out into the Atrium, Oliver close behind him. Percy was unaccountably nervous as they moved through the d eserted building and nearly dropped his wand out of his sleeve.

"Calm down, Perce,' Oliver said, scanning the hallway. Percy dismantled the security charms once he'd gotten his nerves under control.

"S-sorry. Alright, this is her office." Percy fiddled with the spells and they slid in. The painted kittens on plates gamboled about sickeningly and stared at them.

Oliver shut the door and locked it with as many spells as he could think of. "Alright… now what?"

Percy nervously adjusted his glasses. "We destroy as many files as we can; I've brought enough of the twin's fireworks to light up the London skyline for thirty minutes. We open all the files, light the fuses and then see if we can get to Hogwarts in time for the big show. She's got a box of Floo powder on the mantel; go to the…." What was it he'd heard in his vision? - "The Hog's Head is our way into the Castle."

"Sounds like fun," Oliver agreed. "I'm ready to indulge my inner pyromaniac."

Percy carefully turned the key again and again and pulled open a dozen or so file cabinets. Placing a firework fountain in each open drawer until a fuse stuck out of each he said " _Incendio_!" as he lit each fuse Percy moved from the door to the floo fireplace, while Oliver did the same thing to the file cabinets on the other side of the room … furiously pulled out drawers and lighting their contents on fire. The last filing cabinet before the floo, blast it, was enchanted and of course set off an alarm, and tried to shut itself to put out the flames.

Oliver pulled the drawers out in an astonishing feat of brawn over brains and dumped the files into the fireplace. Percy blasted each file again and again until the flames blazed brighter and then the fireworks began to go off.

Someone started hammering on the door. The spells were going to break-

Percy pulled out the last armful of files. "Oliver, go!"

Oliver flung a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. " _The Hog's Head_!" He shouted and disappeared in a roar of emerald green flames and Percy feverishly looked around to see if he missed anything.

" _I KNEW IT_!" Dolores bellowed, finally breaking down the door with the help of an entire security team. "I knew- - - Weasley?"

Percy pulled the key out of his pocket and tossed it to her. "Found your key, Dolores. You know, they seek him here and seek him there, but the Scarlet Pimpernel was sitting in an office just two doors down from yours …the whole time.

' _Reducto'!_ " Percy shouted, aiming his curse at the door and without stopping to see if he'd hit anyone; Percy dumped the entire box of Floo powder into the flames. "The Hog's Head!" he shouted, jumping in and whirling out of the Ministry. - - ' _Goodbye Scarlet Pimpernel_ ,' Percy thought regretfully. At least he managed to make a joke before he plunged right back into certain death. - It was, in all likelihood, the first joke he'd ever made. It could also have possibly been the last. Percy shivered as he stumbled into the Hog's Head and ran up the passage into Hogwarts.

It was now time to see if there was anything _Percy Weasley_ could do.

OoOoOoOoOo

The lights come up for yet another brief intermission, the play will resume shortly, you have just enough time to go to the loo and grab refreshments.

End transmission…


	4. Chapter 4

HP story; **the miss-Adventures of the Magical Scarlet Pimpernel**

Based on a short HP story rated K - - as crafted by Elyse3 at fan-fiction dot com called; **The Scarlet Pimpernel** \- - First published: 09-14-07 possible completion date: 11-04-08

This will be yet another in a long-line of Hollywood remakes by Billybob-csagun36

8888

Part 4

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 11

In which Percy is Deeply Miserable

It turned out that Percy Weasley could do a lot on his own. In fact, he did so much he didn't remember most of what he did.

There were flashes that he could recall. As soon as he reached the pub, he saw Aberforth gesturing madly up the stairs and shouting about how his pub wasn't an Underground-railway stop. Percy obligingly ignored Aberforth entirely, bounded up the stairs two at a time, and crawled through that blasted portrait until he fell out and realized, with a sudden surge of panic, that he couldn't see anything.

Everyone had gone, he was too late! Just like he'd been with Martha Austen… just like he'd been with Eloise - -

But it turned out that for one glorious, glorious moment, when he blurted out anything and everything that came to the top of his head, he wasn't at all. Because in this odd room, were his mother and his father and all his brothers with Ginny the youngest leaping into his arms engulfing him - - and suddenly he was so overwhelmingly grateful that he finally _belonged_ with them as he heard his sister-in-law loudly exclaimed (in bad English) how they all should be proud of him and he heard his family laugh with disbelief …until Fleur became angry enough to speak in her sternest Veela compelling voice as she carefully explain to the other Weasley's that she had heard some of the very good things that Percy had done while undercover for the resistance movement …from her mother-

…And then everything blurred again… when he turned Pius Thicknesse into a sea urchin while in a wild, almost uncontrollably good spirits, shouted, "Hello Minister! Did I mention I'm resigning?" And Fred - - Fred, whom he'd always (sort-of) looked out for, who had always teased him and pulled pranks on him and seemed to hate him turned to face him with an actual, genuine smile and said, "You're joking Perce! I haven't heard you joke since - -"

And suddenly Percy was too late again.

Fred was suddenly silent as he disappeared under the debris of an explosion and Percy flung himself on Fred, to keep him from getting hurt, but it really was too late, because Fred was dead and - - and Department Head Rookwood had caused the explosion to cover his retreat -

Percy then coldly stepped on the sea-urchin crushing it flat - - as he raced after Rookwood and he was lost in the haze of hate and grief and danger. - - And he never could remember what happened next, but he was pretty sure he'd killed Rockwood at some point …although how he had done it escaped him. He also believed down to the souls of his feet that just with Martha and Eloise …his incompetence had caused Fred to die. It was almost a gap in his memory, just because he couldn't handle remembering it. Once the battle was over, his memory picked up again.

Percy sat against a stone wall, holding his glasses in his hands, his knees up against his chest, his vague, unfocused gaze directed at the ceiling. This way, he couldn't see. He didn't really want to see. He had seen everything he had wanted to see and then some. He was tired- _so very, very tired_ \- and he was bleeding in some spots …while everywhere else on his body hurt, both inside and out. He tried to content himself with the knowledge that Penny was at least safe, that Voldemort was really, actually gone, but he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it.

All he knew was that Fred was dead. He had stormed in here without a plan, he had forgotten to attend to the details and because of it …Fred was dead. There was a sudden absence within him, a blankness and emptiness he couldn't begin to describe. He felt vacant. It was as if there were three specters just out of sight haunting him …the three he had let down, the three that the Pimpernel had failed.

The three ghosts of his victims … were with him just out of sight and although he could neither see nor hear them, he could feel their presence nevertheless. In a castle like Hogwarts they could have been any ghosts, but somehow Percy convinced himself they were 'his' personal specters – the special victims of his incompetence: (Eloise, Martha and Fred). He feared that he would never be free of his many mistakes – that he would be stained forever… by the blood of the countless innocent souls on his hands.

"Hey Perce", Bill's voice.

Percy, head tilted against the wall, glasses off, did not even see a blob that was supposed to be Bill. He didn't move or speak.

"Can I sit next to you?"

Percy scooted over a bit.

"You okay?"

Percy thought about this. "No. I don't think so."

"Oh, okay-then."

They were silent for a moment and then Percy said, "You know, it really wasn't- **all** -my fault."

"What?" Bill asked.

"The rift with the family… It wasn't my entire fault. I've been putting a lot of thought into it. I mean, yes, I was a prat, for a number of years; no one's doubting that, but the estrangement wasn't exclusively of my doing. It was really a logical sort of promotion. I'd been very competently running the entire Department of International Magical Cooperation since the elder Crouch had disappeared, after all."

"Wait, **really**?" Bill sounded incredulous. "You honestly ran an entire department when you were eighteen, Perce?"

"Mm-hmm," Percy replied. "Truth is; I've been basically running the Ministry since Fudge was forced from office and during the brief tenure when Scrimgeour was in charge … before his murder that is; After that came Pius Thicknesse who was an empty-suit actually… a Death Eater 'figurehead' on the same lines of the Muggle; 'Vidkum Quisling', under the Nazis … neither man had any skills as a bureaucrat. In Fact; **none** \- of the last three Ministers I have served … had any real understanding of the vital necessity for a proper filing system".

"And you know, it hurts a little when you say 'really' in that tone of voice. Did everyone just assume I was _stupid_ and an incompetently-pompous Quisling?" Percy added as an afterthought

"Er-"

"Bill, that was a rhetorical question. It means that you don't answer it."

"I know, Perce, but… " Bill began

"I really don't want to hear an answer either. I know that everyone in the entire family has hated me for the last fifteen years …with only two very notable exceptions. Mum for one, she never wavered - - and then Ron, who just recently had a change of heart about me… oh, I'd say about four months ago; primarily because I risked my life to get him out of Azkaban. Oh …by the Way … I've met your mother-in-law and if Fleur Delacour is even half as sexually aggressive as her Mother, I'm genuinely surprised your engagement was as long as it was".

"You're the one that got him out? - - He never did tell me what happened", Bill said in double astonishment, not aware that anyone in the family knew how Fleur had gotten him to marry her.

"I found Ron lying in a hallway outside the prison's interrogation room - beaten and tortured and left to die", Percy said in a casual tone. "He had parted company with Potter and Granger somewhere along the line, in mid-November of last year… I suppose. I don't remember the exact particulars, but I believe it had something to do with Granger picking Potter romantically over him…"

"Well we all predicted that was going to happen", Bill interjected.

"Yes we did actually", Percy agreed. "It was rather obvious to anyone who looked at the situation objectively; she was obsessed with Potter from 'day one', while romantically overlooking our poor Ronnie. Any-way something happened that finally opened his eyes to Grangers total 'love sick worship' of Potter and he suddenly felt like a third wheel on a pony-cart…"

"…I beg your pardon?" Bill asked sounding puzzled

"Third person on a honeymoon… in the way …not needed and underfoot - - Any road …after he left the young lovers, he then stayed with you and Fleur for a-bit as I understand it, - before realizing how big a fool he'd been for ever thinking he could compete with Potter for any bird. Deciding to try to find the lovers and again and offer his help, after swallowing his pride and a good part of his heartache, Ron packed an old dog tent and some other necessary supplies and began his search. I suppose he intended to living in a separate tent so as to not interfere with the Potter/Granger lovemaking.

"So Granger finally got the bloke she always wanted", Bill snarled not at all happy.

"I'd say yes …or our little Ronnie would never have abandoned them. That boy is loyal to a fault. As I understand it he spent several months on his search until finally he had one too many run-ins with the snatchers …which is how he ended up getting caught and left in a prison hallway near death, where I..."

"…Where you found him…" Bill said interrupting

"Naturally"

"And you recognized him as your brother" Bill asked.

"Oh heavens no, he was a bloody mess, face swollen beyond recognition and he had obviously been employing some kind of disguise which included his hair being hexed brown". Percy continued.

"Then why?…"

"William… I mean honestly, I had to intervene" Percy insisted. "There are specific laws governing the humane treatment of prisoners, which were clearly being violated. Besides; as the Scarlet Pimpernel, I saw it as my sworn duty to free as many prisoners as I could from an unlawful government".

"No way… you're not the Scarlet Pimpernel? Bill said in astonishment.

"There you go again, underestimating my abilities, and after doing it for ten years or more, I imagine its second nature to you-lot now. I ran the entire Ministry of magic and right under the ruddy noses of Pius Thicknesse and that awful woman Umbridge, meanwhile; I ran a small resistance moment, freeing lord-knows how many… and all the family can recall is the contents of a private letter; meant for Ron's eyes only, offering him some brotherly advice on his self-serving companions… in which I warned him that Granger would always overlook him as she focused all her love and devotion upon Potter".

"Ron never showed us that part of the letter" Bill conceded.

"I warned him rather sternly, that Potter would get the girl and in the end and apparently …he did. I've dealt with being an exile right after the day that dad got bit by the snake, and then – boom – I'm totally disowned." Percy shoved his glasses back on and, with an unsteady hand, pushed himself off the wall to walk away. "I never belonged and it hurt to find that pranking of me was acceptable …nay encouraged, because I'd always wanted to belong, but I just don't. So I think I'm going to go now."

"Where?"

"I don't know… away from this castle, all the death and carnage but most importantly my hate filled relations. I know in my soul that everyone- 'including you' -wishes that I had died instead of Fred. And to tell the truth; I wish it too." He wasn't upset as he said this, only resigned. He then began to walk off, but Bill had one final parting question.

"Oi Percy, how did you get Ron out of the prison?"

"Really Bill; isn't it obvious - - I just gave the Death Eater in charge, a properly filling out form for the claiming of a relatives body; which I doubt he read or filed-away properly. And just walked out the front door with Ron's barely alive body levitated beside me. Next; I duel-apperated both of us into my Flat, wherein I paid a private healer… very handsomely - to come in and tend the- _**pub fight injuries**_ -of my distant cousin and flat/guest: 'Rupert Grint', a name which I made-up… naturally.

"And no Auror was called by the healer to investigate?" Bill asked.

"Why should he call anyone, I am the personal Assistant to the Minister himself and had all the correct paperwork at hand".

"That's amazing" Bill exclaimed.

"No …its quite ordinary, routine really, Once I got Ron healed to the point of being barely back on his feet he insisted on going back to you at- _**Shell Cottage**_ , where I don't doubt he finished his recovery, gathered more supplies and tried again to rejoin Potter and his lady Love", Bill explained. - - "Only to be caught again and taken to- _**Malfoy Manor**_ " -before returning to- _**Shell Cottage**_ -with Potter, Granger and several others in tow

"I wouldn't know about that bit, now would I? - If Ron ignored my advice and went back to the lovers, then he deserves all the heartache that bookworm has given him", Percy said bitterly.

"Heaven forbid that you ever fall in love again. Especially with someone as unattainable like Granger"

"Funny you should say that Bill," Percy said more to himself than to Bill as he walked away; "for pursuing a love that is unachievable… is yet another thing that Ron, Ginny and I have in common". If Bill heard the comment and he was half-hoping he had …then Bill would deny that painful truth and stop him.

But Bill did not.

Percy walked around the hallways of Hogwarts over its grounds and down to the lake, where no one took notice of him and he took no notice of them. He sort of hated this sudden invisibility. Just a few hours earlier, he would have gloried in it, been smug over the fact that no one noticed the Scarlet Pimpernel, that by being himself he provided the perfect disguise. But now - - Well, everything had changed.

Voldemort was dead as was his principle stooge; Pius Thicknesse.

But so too …was a-lot of others including, Fred.

Percy sat down on a Hugh rock down by the lake's edge and stared at nothing for the longest time - - until he heard footsteps. Percy half-hoped it was a Death Eater; the idea of mindless battle was strangely appealing.

"I heard about Fred," Oliver said awkwardly, sitting next to Percy.

"I saw him die," Percy said idly. "It was very sad."

"I thought so." Oliver said which was followed by an awkward pause. "You sister is all depressed, she saw how things are between Potter and Granger and the sight crushed her. It's really sad to see her pinning away for a boy that Granger now owns so totally. She clearly wears the trousers in any relationship she's in. But this was always going to happen, we knew that… right? - - I feel sorry for her though… Ginny I mean", which was followed by yet another awkward pause.

"Did you see Ron?"

"Yeah … he got banged up pretty bad, taking hits meant for Granger", Oliver explained. "But he has apparently bought himself a clue at long last. And the proof of this is he's been avoiding Potter and Granger like they carried the ' _black plague'- -"_

"And when do you think he finally wised up" Percy asked weakly.

"If I had to guess ...I'd say it would have been right-after the three of them took a- 'private time' -walk on the old bridge - - right after the battle. When Ron came back from that stroll 'alone' ... I could see that he was a changed man. I'd say Ron feels that now that the war is over, his obligation the 'golden duo' is over. - - what happened next ...I sort-of figured would happen, that all the Weasley's would abruptly shun Granger and Potter once the truth became known". Oliver continued. "I'd wager that neither of the 'Heroes' suspected that there would be a heavy-price to be paid for admitting their love publicly ... don't know what else to say - really, beyond I feel sorry for Ginny and Ron."

"I think that deep down they both knew it would end this way. But can we just sit quietly for a-while. My head hurts." Percy added. - - So they sat on the rock and watched the ripples on the lake. (Possibly caused by the merpeople just below the surface becoming all excited due to the castle battle). Percy could not tell how much time passed, since he felt so blank inside.

Eventually Oliver laid down on the rock. "Will you be okay if I sleep?"

"Go ahead. You're safe. I am the Scarlet Pimpernel after all."

"True," Oliver said, with a yawn. "I'm knackered."

"Sleep in safety, oh sole surviving member of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel." He said as he held his head in his hands and closed his eyes. "I honestly didn't think it could happen. I'm not supposed to have survived this war; I should have been caught and executed… long ago."

But Oliver didn't hear, for Oliver was already asleep. Percy picked a branch off the ground and began to dig in the sand in front of him. Time passed and Percy was starting to wonder why no-one had come to check the grounds for additional wounded, before deciding that there were spells to do that. Yes, if McGonagall was still alive - - she would have made doubly sure that no Death Eater was in hiding on the grounds. His family knew where he was and they really didn't care. Just as he had thought, he was still alone and invisible. He should consider himself fortunate that he still had Oliver. He was right; no one should ever know the identity of the Scarlett Pimpernel

For once, Percy hated being right.

He drew a line in the sand. At least things had been alright between him and Fred before Fred died. At least there was that.

Percy started to dig a moat around the rock.

"Percy is this where you have been hiding?" cried a female voice. It was Ginny – of course. Percy really didn't want to see her…or anyone else actually. At least she wasn't George, though. He didn't know what to say to George, now that his twin was gone.

Instead of replying, Percy continued to dig his moat.

"Harry- Harry's with Hermione now." She said in a resigned tone, not at all happy about it. "Hermione made it official on the grand staircase a short time ago with Potter silently standing next to her like a pet at her master's feet. She really did it, Perce; Told Ron the raw truth - - that she'd been hopelessly in love with Harry since second year". Everything she ever told me for years about; 'being like a sister to him' -were all lies. - - now Budge over. I need some advice"

"No, you'll wake Oliver." Percy whipped his stick around to hold off Ginny. "Look, I'm sorry that your dreams of being with Harry have been finally crushed, but like Ron - - deep down you had to know that this day would come. She's been after him since half way through first year … you've seen the same things I did. My advice, from someone who has also pinning-away after the unattainable…"

"…Penelope Clearwater", Ginny interjected automatically.

"Yeah - - Her"…. Percy admitted nearly chocking up. "My advice little sister is move on, find someone who isn't a national celebrity… who won't have pretty groupies offering him sex - all his ruddy-life. Play the field for a decade or so and then when you feel the nesting urge … then find yourself a 'normal bloke' who really loves you for who you are - - before settling-down and having a house full of nippers. But for 'right now' …forsake any thought of commitment to any one man and focus you're your dream of an Quidditch career. I've seen you fly, the- _**Harpies**_ -would be lucky to get you".

"That's my sage council little girl, take it and go away …for the only person in England who can actually stand my company and who would actually care if I lived or died is on this rock next to me and I'd rather not wake him when he wants to sleep."

Ginny snorted. "You are a git."

"You don't know the half of it," Percy agreed amicably, neither looking-up at Ginny nor moving his stick. "Fly away quickly, little virgin on a unicorn or Thestral… your choice."

"Your insults are crap."

"Yours would be too if after you saw Fred die and you discovered that you had no real reason to go on living. Come-on Ginny - - get real here. You had to know it was over with Potter when he broke up with you at Dumbledore's funeral", Percy pointed out. "Had he invited you to go with him when he went into hiding you might have had a chance. - - But no, the only woman he took with him was the only woman he'll ever need … Granger. You've had your: _moment in the spot-light_ you dated Harry as the- 'one and only' -Hogwarts girl who ever o fficially dated Harry… before Granger claimed her prize – as everyone expected she would - you're going to be a footnote in his autobiography …a trivia question for generations to come".

"That's not comforting Percy" Ginny protested.

"You lasted longer than Cho did, right?" Percy pointed out. "You're really pretty, fun to be around and you have a figure, something Granger will never have. I highly doubt that in five years I'll be able to keep track of your overly-active love life. Consider Potter a teachable moment – something unattainable that was always out of reach".

"You're far better off than I am. I was the executive assistant under that Quisling; Minister Pius Thicknesse; I could face complicity charges for being a part of a genocidal Death Eater government. Even talking to you again now can make you an accessory after the fact. The mob will demand someone to blame and I'm the prefect- sacrificial goat -and if you knew half of what I've done, all the people I didn't save, you'd know that I deserve a Dementor's Kiss a hundred times over".

"Go away Ginny before I taint you with my foulness. Join dad and the rest of your siblings in screaming your hatred for the blood betrayer. Tell everyone you meet how you wish that I had died instead of Fred".

"That's not true",

"Bugger off, you manky bint. You got your advice, take it and leave the family leper to his fate", Percy suddenly felt the blankness replaced with indescribable anger, searing through him, clouding his judgment, his senses. He threw down the stick, not caring at all if he hit Ginny - - and naturally she stormed off.

He had to walk around the lake several times to shake off the urge to kill something. His anger and resentment just flared up again when he saw his father standing near Oliver's rock, waiting for him with his hands in his pockets. Percy's father saw him and began walking towards him.

"Percy, I-"

"Sorry, still alive," Percy said acidly. "I do apologize. Have you come to arrest me?"

"Percy, what?"

"For war crimes against magical Britain - - of course - - and attempted genocide against the Muggleborn's and half-bloods. I know you hate me. So this is the perfect opportunity to 'put down' once and for all your mongrel pup. Don't deny that you want to do this, for I went into your office after I sent you the note telling you to go into hiding…"

"Then what Bill told me was true; you are the Scarlet Pimpernel" Arthur interjected joyfully.

"- - so what? - There were countless lives the Pimpernel didn't save. And their blood weighs heavily on my soul. So don't try to distract me; you made my image leave the family picture of our holiday in Egypt. That's alright, though, because I knew you hated me since you erroneously said in public that I was promoted to spy on you- _**you**_ , a very minor, bureaucratic official that ran a two man department; that no one in the entire Ministry really cared about. I spent more gold in a single day as special-assistant to several different- _**Ministers' of Magic**_ -than your entire department budget for the last three years combined".

"I suppose it really didn't matter to you that I managed: _an entire department of fifty employees …on my own - at eighteen._ Oh my no … you gave zero consideration for an outstanding achievement done by someone so young - - none at all. Percy is just a power-hungry moron, too focused on a 'boot licking' his way into a position to ever actually be worthy of any role he filled in government".

"Everything's my fault, anyways, because God knows the twins could never have done anything wrong in your eyes with their constant bullying - - fully justified, and Ginny's too. Only little Ronnie refrained from taking the Mickey out on me and why not, he was suffering the same kind of abuse from the twins and his sister. Abuse and bullying that you encouraged the boys to **try to** and I quote; 'Wake him up about the Potter obsessed Granger'. - - Of course, you called that- 'tough-love' -and when it came to Granger. - - I give you an A for effort ... it was a nice try. But Ronnie had to come to terms with Grangers love for Potter in his own good time. All the twins accomplished were to make him hide his t alents and to love that- **bint** -even more".

"And I don't blame you for trying to ease his heartache - no, that's wrong. I do blame you for it. No _father_ should try to prank and bully his son to give up a bird or ever hate another son so much as to let the twins and Ginny bully and pester me to the point of distraction. No _father_ should ever exile a son for actually having a better position and a bigger pay-bucket while doing a worthwhile job that really mattered - - and having the talent and dedication to do a good job at it."

"You really felt like this?" his father asked, looking crestfallen.

Percy thought about his a moment. "Yes; Entirely." He then turned around and sat on the rock, next to Oliver, who slept like the dead, which was a good thing.

Actually Percy discovered that there was no benefit from venting - - no, the situation was still horrible and Percy was still the families exiled leper. Suddenly Percy wanted to be the Scarlet Pimpernel once again, because the Scarlet Pimpernel was dashing and heroic and had nothing to lose, only his name and a League and a just cause. Percy Weasley had – had - nothing, was nothing would be invisible to the world, behind the scenes …faceless. Percy didn't know why that such a thought was so overwhelmingly depressing – but it was and he had to hold his head-up with his hands.

"I'm sorry," his father said, finally.

"You are lying," Percy said. "I understand why, but you are lying all the same."

"Percy, please look at me."

Percy didn't, and felt vindictively pleased.

"Percy- look, you were always different from all the others. You were the good boy, you were the hard worker, and you were the responsible one. Your mother and I trusted you. We knew that you would do a good job of looking after the twins, of keeping Ron and Ginny safe… we never - - - you were an adult by the time you turned ten, no-no earlier than that, since you were five. I suppose we never really thought that you were a child, that you had those sorts of insecurities - that you ever felt you were persecuted for being who you were."

"You," Percy snapped, in the most vicious insult he could think of, "never notice the little details that make things work. You rarely plan what you're going to do ahead of time, its 'plain as day' in your departmental reports. You're generally disorganized and have a deep seated fear of anyone with a superior intellect; it's showed in your anti-Granger campaign via the twins and the way your later sons were raised to put such little stock in education. Bill and I did fine, but Charlie - Fred - George and now Ron… all failed to graduate from Hogwarts".

"Talking to Ron while he recovered from his snatcher injuries; I discovered that he's been deliberately downplaying his own intelligence to gain acceptance from the rest of his anti-schooling siblings. ' _Didn't want to be picked on like I was_ ' - he told me. ' _Got more attention from Granger acting dumb than I would have as her equal_ ', was another thing he enlightened me on. I've seen you tell Ginny to dumb-down so as not to intimidate boys and use Granger as the perfect example of a know-it-all driving boys away … even mum agreed with you on that score."

His father was very quiet for a few minutes absorbing it all and finally saying very sadly. "I'm not really anti-education you know. And I'm sorry for sending that message to the others, but you're right, Percy. I did let my children down by not encouraging them more to finish their educations. With the twins making such a huge success for themselves with the joke shop, that gave the others the impression that finishing school was unnecessary, Ron's already told me he's not going back, but Ginny is because of her Quidditch goals - and not just to graduate. Damnit"

They were silent for a very long moment.

"I thought if I apologized to the family, everything would miraculously be alright," Percy said to the sand. "But no mending spell will fix this. I needed the closure of being forgiven for leaving the family, yes, but I need to forgive you-lot too, for much more than I ever needed to be forgiven, because, after all, I'm only asking forgiveness for two years of estrangement - - whereas you're asking for twenty worth of physical and emotional abuse, and I don't think that I can do that. I don't think I can ever forgive you all for all of the pranks all the humiliation. I can't bring myself right now to forgive even Fred and he's dead and I'm sorry about that - - but I can't, I really-really can't."

The silence was beginning to grow oppressive. Percy looked up, finally and saw his father with his face in his hands.

Percy, exasperated, still furiously angry and suddenly, terribly guilt-stricken, stood up and walked over to his father. He couldn't think of anything to say. He would have liked to have said, - ' _Oh, sorry, I've gone a bit too far_ ' - but he thought about it for a long time and decided that he really hadn't. He'd said exactly what he was thinking and had not exaggerated at all. Percy knew he was many things - most of them terrible - but he had never been a liar.

"I'm sorry, Percy," his father said finally, in a voice that trembled. "I'm so sorry for being a terrible father."

Percy stuck his hands into his pockets and looked out at the lake. "You weren't terrible; not really, you did a lot spot-on … you just had some of your priorities out of whack - especially when came to your children's future … there-there sir, just some of your ideas were totally out of kilter. And I'm still sorry, because; I just don't know if I can ever believe; that you're genuinely sorry …for anything."

"It's going to be hard to make amends," his father admitted. Percy didn't look at him. He had the odd feeling that he had made his father cry somehow and he felt guilty and vindicated and so horrifically confused that all he could remember was that Fred was dead and nothing was ever, ever going to be the same. "But you're a Weasley, Percy, and we all want you to know that."

Percy thought about this a moment. "No. That's a lie again, but if you believe it, then I can only respect your willingness to think of the best in people."

"What happened to you?" his father asked, sounding so small and so miserable and so sad that Percy had to bow his head and stare at the sand beneath his shoes.

"A lot of things, father," Percy said finally. "I watched friends die. I saw the multiple laws broken. I had everyone I ever cared about abandon me and I risked my life on a daily basis for people who never knew who saved them." He gave a Gallic sort of shrug; his talks with the French Ministry were rubbing off on him. "It all adds up the same conclusion … I grew up."

"I wish I could have spared you some of that." His father put a hand on Percy's shoulder. Percy stiffened, but the hand stayed. "Percy, part of the reason that I was so involved in the first war was to protect all of you. I wanted to make sure that you would grow up in a safe world, a good world, where you wouldn't see people die in front of your eyes."

"You-lot didn't put down Voldemort's mongrel pups during their first go at a take-over, and it was those same Death Eater bastards that killed so many during this second uprising. We fought the same families twice in less than twenty years; father, your generation has the blood of the innocent on your hands" Percy muttered, though not loud enough to be heard.

"I wanted your life to be better than mine."

Percy gave a curt, quick nod, shook off his father's hand, and picked up a rock. Percy weighed it in the palm of his hand before aiming and flicking his wrist so that it skimmed over the surface of the lake. "I know what you wanted to do and I give you credit for trying to do your best. But it was you and your 'Dumbledore worshipers' that had a pack of rabid dogs in your hands …after the first war - - and you-lot let them- **buy** -their way out of punishment. You didn't personally muck-up our world I know that … Dumbledore and his 'second changes' rubbish for rabid-dogs did this to us … with Voldemort doing the rest."

He felt his father's smile and Percy hated him for thinking that this could be solved so quickly, that Percy's forgiveness was so easily attainable. It meant that his father still did not realize he had done anything wrong. "Thank you, Percy."

Percy picked up another rock and sent it skipping over the water. His father came up next to him, picked up a rock, and did the same. He had taught Percy how to do that, on one of those rare, free afternoons, when the twins were asleep and Bill and Charlie weren't injuring themselves, and Percy finally just had his father to himself.

"Someday things will be better," Percy said. "Things won't be the same of course. They won't ever be the same, but they may eventually be barely okay. You will never fully understand me or Ron… who has been hiding for years from his real potential and I will move heaven and earth to help him become everything he wants to be. Ginny wants to be a Quidditch player, so her goals are beyond my help".

"The damage you've done to Ron and me … is almost unforgivable, but if I don't end up in prison, I'm reasonably sure I can help Ron recover from what Grangers done to him. In the end, we may approach something close to understanding and forgiveness - someday. We'll at least come very close".

"But not now, though. I know you tried, but I still can't forgive you yet for failing me." He sent a rock skimming over the lake and it disappeared into the shimmer of the sun on the water. "But that's very far away, you know. I know I've done wrong, but no one else will admit that they've done wrong and they need to."

"We love you," his father said.

"Please; no more lie's," Percy said.

"I never will again… not to you," his father promised. "I haven't done much for you Percy …or for Ron; at least up to now and I know – that deep down you must at least concede that now the war is behind us, it opens up the potential for me to be more proactive with my youngest two children."

"Youngest child, as in the singular; Ginny you may still influence, because she is going back to Hogwarts; Ron isn't". Percy said in a way that broke no argument.

"But with your support, perhaps together we can talk him into finishing his education", Arthur said hopefully.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, an 'A' for effort for good intentions" Percy replied, with a careful wrist flick. The stone whizzed across the rippled surface of the lake until it disappeared into the sunset. "But at least for Ron, after all he has gone through; I don't believe that magically, Hogwarts has anything more to teach your youngest son. He doesn't need potions, or transfiguration lessons. What he needs is to get away from his betrayers and a-spot of training in areas that best utilizes his hidden talents".

"And you learned all this by just talking to him for a few days".

"Honestly Dad; after all those years as a burrocrat, and yet you never learned the vital important task of delegating responsibilities to subordinates. Picking the right people to support a project, is just as important as knowing how to make the burrocratic machine work for you. I always had the ability to judge correctly a person's talents. The Scarlet Pimpernel greatest advantage was my in depth knowledge of the burrocratic machine and how it worked. With the correctly filled-out form, all the subordinate burrocratic 'functionaries' will do the right things automatically and without conscious thought. More often than not …a properly filled out form was the vital tool that I used to greatly undermine the Death Eaters goal to kill all the half-bloods".

"I never could manipulate the system like that". Arthur admitted.

"Few can Dad, that's my real talent … my gift",

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 12

In which Percy Meets Teddy Lupin

Having a lot to mull over; Arthur wanted to go back up to the castle, so when Oliver actually woke up a few minutes later, Oliver, Percy, and Percy's father walked back into the castle and into the Great Hall. Percy's mother rushed at them and crushed Percy to her chest. Percy felt her tears cascade down his head, as if he were being anointed with holy oil for kingship.

"I missed you, Percy," she whispered, holding him tightly.

"He did send us the notes, Molly," his father said. "You were right. Percy sent us the notes with the flower on them."

Percy's mother squeezed him yet tighter, sobbing.

"Where is Ron?" - Percy asked when he caught of Ginny glaring hatefully at Hermione and Harry cuddling tightly as they offered each other comfort.

"I don't know, he's been avoiding any room the great- ' **Hero's** ' – are in"; Bill said sarcastically, "at least since the fighting stopped".

"Excuse me," came a cool, aristocratic voice from behind them. "I am looking for my daughter."

Mrs. Weasley turned to look at the newcomer, dragging Percy around with her.

With a hint of almost icy amusement, the woman added on, "Since you have apparently just found your offspring, I hoped you had some idea where mine went. My grandson needs his mother." The soft background noise of baby coos and gurgles confirmed this fact.

"What was her name, dear?" Percy's mother asked kindly.

"Nymphodora Tonks Lupin."

"Oh, _dear_ ," said Mrs. Weasley, releasing Percy at last.

Percy straightened his glasses and his shirt and sent a glare at Oliver, who was once again attempting to swallow his own fist to stifle his laughter.

The woman speaking had all the same sort of cold, impassive beauty of Narcissa Malfoy, who had often attempted to subtly manipulate Percy into freeing her husband. It was a very-understated seductiveness that could be suddenly cranked-up to ensnare the beholder and if Percy hadn't been able to pull himself back by thinking suddenly of Penny, Lucius Malfoy probably would have been out of jail a very long time ago. Thankfully Narcissa's was a mere human witch and her sexuality was not as aggressively overpowering as Fluer's mother had been in France. Come to think on it; Fleur herself had been more subdued in her conquest of Bill. All-in-all: Percy had to admit, that Narcissa Malfoy had been very clever in pinpointing the one person who knew how to help her husband out of Azkaban and for trying so hard (seductively) to achieve it.

"What are you saying?" asked Mrs. Tonks. "Has she been hurt?"

"Yes," Mr. Weasley said heavily.

Mrs. Tonks paled and began to almost sway on the spot. "Take me to her. Take me to her now."

"I- oh… you poor dear," said Mrs. Weasley, going over to her.

"Where is she? Where is Nymphadora? Where is my daughter?!"

"Charlie," their father said suddenly. "Charlie, catch the-"

Charlie dove and caught the baby just as Mrs. Tonks caught sight of her daughter and Remus Lupin lying, dead, side-by-side, on the tables.

Andromeda Tonks screamed as if trying to force the grief up out of her chest and into the open. She took her hair in thick double handfuls and sank to the ground, howling horrifically. Percy had to look away.

"Shh, shhh," said Percy's mother, wrapping her arms around her. "It'll be alright."

"Everyone is dead! I've lost everyone!" Mrs. Tonks buried her face in his mother's thick bosom, her howls undiminished.

Charlie held out Teddy Lupin at arm's length and looked at Percy in near panic.

"What?"

"He smells."

"Charlie, you grew up with five younger siblings and you have no idea what to do with a smelly infant?"

"Hey, you took care of everyone, not me. I was out chasing gnomes."

"Give him here."

Percy took Teddy away. Teddy had orange hair quickly fading into turquoise and was so focused at the business at hand he seemed only mildly peeved at his grandmother's wails. Percy looked up to see everyone bowed in various attitudes of exhaustion, of grief, of numbness, trapped in private inner worlds where no one else had a place. He and Teddy were alone in this world. Teddy finally opened his eyes, beaming at a job he apparently thought was very well done. His eyes were the exact same shade of hazel as Percy's.

All of a sudden, Percy had an intense and overwhelming feeling of camaraderie, a connection so deep it seemed to surpass all levels of comprehension and shoot straight into his heart. Teddy gurgled and Percy, holding his breath, decided to take him down into Professor Snape's old office, on the grounds that it was the closest and absolutely no one would bother them there.

"You need to be changed," Percy said, holding him very carefully and taking him out of the hall and the noise of sobs and wails and moans and cries, away from death. It was dark and cool, and staved off Percy's incipient headache. "Come on now, I'll take care of you. I am the Scarlet Pimpernel, after all, and I help the helpless."

He'd known the spells for so long it was automatic- unbutton, get rid of the manky old nappy, wipe, powder, new nappy, rebutton, there!

"Are you feeling better now?" Percy asked Teddy. "I'm sure you are." To keep Teddy from crying at the loss of his grandmother, Percy helped him fake-walk all over Professor Snape's desk. Snape was dead, after all, and probably wouldn't object.

Oliver walked in and raised an eyebrow. "Disturb a play-date, did I?"

"Oh, hardly. I'm teaching Teddy how to walk."

"I never pegged you down as someone who'd be good with babies."

"I did grow up with four younger siblings, Oliver." Percy smiled at Teddy's gurgles of pleasure. "You never really forget, you know. I always loved taking care of them. Then they stopped liking it."

"Makes me glad I'm an only child," Oliver said, with a passing attempt at levity. He sat down on the edge of one of the tables. "You know, never thought I'd be back here. Makes me wonder what it is I ought to do next."

"Play Quidditch… I suppose?" Percy suggested.

"Yeah, that will happen soon I got that-bit from Kingsley. But… it's suddenly just dawned on me that there may be _more to life than Quidditch._ " Oliver looked absolutely horrified. "What if people stop caring about Quidditch, Perce? What then?"

"Well, what if people stop caring about filing systems and international policy?" Percy countered. "We both have rather limited skill sets, you know. Actually, no, we don't. We expanded our horizons rather a lot during the war. We could take to the stage. Entertain the troops and whatnot. Everyone wants a laugh…." – His voice trailed off. Fred was still dead.

"Yeah," said Oliver, staring at his folded hands.

"I- er… we ought to see if Mrs. Tonks has any of Teddy's stuff." Percy picked up Teddy and cradled him with an ease born of considerable practice. "Want to come?"

"Yeah," said Oliver, slightly awkwardly. They both thought, at the exact same time, that it would be utterly terrible to be alone right now.

Percy tried to smile and ended up saying, "You're an awfully good League, Oliver."

"You're a good Scarlet Pimpernel," Oliver said back gamely. Then, like every pair of British twenty-somethings vaguely ashamed of their feelings, they avoided eye contact and pretended that the moment had never happened.

"How do you hold a baby like that?" Oliver asked, as they walked up the stairs.

"Oh, it's easy. Here, stand still." Percy arranged Oliver's arms and carefully gave him Teddy. "Now, support the head- - - _head_ Oliver. There! Careful, Teddy's not a Quaffle."

Oliver looked supremely awkward holding Teddy. "He's _small_."

"And also alive and breathing, Oliver, and I'd prefer if he stayed that way. Do be careful."

Oliver took a couple of awkward steps with Teddy. Percy thought it looked almost… well, _funny_. "I'm going to sit down here before I drop him," Oliver said, sitting down almost laughably slowly.

"I'll go see if I can find his things, shall I? If he starts crying, just rock him."

"Rock him?" Oliver asked, completely bewildered.

"I'll go quickly then."

The next two days passed by in something of a sleepless blur. Andromeda Tonks was in no fit state to care for an infant, so Percy holed up in his old Hogwarts 'Headboy' dorm room with Teddy. He adored Teddy. It shocked him how easily and how simply he'd fallen in love. It was wonderful to have someone to protect and take care of, who actually and honestly loved him back for it.

After Percy had made up a bottle for Teddy's breakfast, someone knocked on the door. Percy cringed. He'd been avoiding his family because he was relatively sure they still hated him, Oliver was in the hospital wing for the mysterious gash on his leg that still hadn't healed-

A House Elf appeared in his bedroom with a crack.

"Oh, hello," Percy said.

"Owl-post for Master Weasley," the House Elf said. Percy stared at him blankly before removing the empty bottle from Teddy's mouth and handing it to the elf in exchange for the letter.

"Thank you very much, I am most obliged," Percy replied tiredly, opening the letter with one hand.

It read:

888

 _Percy Weasley-_

 _The Ministry of Magic won't let us in. Since you are the only high ranking Ministry official left, we would appreciate your assistance._

 _-Kingsley Shacklebolt, temporary Minister of Magic_

 _888_

"Well Teddy," Percy said, folding the letter up and sticking it in his pocket. "Time to go," And with that said, Percy walked out of the castle, off the grounds, and disappeared with a slight ' _pop_ ' to an alleyway just by the entrance to the Ministry. He was entirely unsurprised to see a small group of bedraggled witches and wizards standing forlornly by the toilets.

"They won't open," one witch said miserably.

"Of course not, it's after hours." Percy said casually, shifting his grip on Teddy. "So here we go - - - Once upon a-time the great and mighty super-hero; Harry Potter, worshiped by witches everywhere … along with his much beloved 'stick figured', future girlfriend; Hermione Granger, the hero of Muggle-born's everywhere – one day broke into the Ministry in clever disguise's … along with their pathetically love-sick... _**sidekick**_ \- who is also my youngest brother; Ronald - -, you'll like him Teddy; because like me … Ron loves kids".

"Anyway; the hero and heroine had conspired to break the kindly sidekick's heart, but that foul deed happened much later, in a sad tale that I won't tell you now. But right now we will focus on the break-in, because this horrendous crime resulted in a multiple changes in security; which means the building automatically goes into lock-down after five." Teddy gurgled restlessly. "Right you are Teddy! They are totally 'amateurish' security measures as anyone can see, Childs-play to undo really. Would someone be so kind as to burp him while I attend to this? Thank you."

Percy handed Teddy over to a cooing witch and tapped the sign twice with his wand. " _Dicco._ "

The sign said, "Ministry of Magic is closed, reasons: after hours."

"Percy Ignatius Weasley seeks entrance."

"Reason for admittance?"

"Head start on paperwork."

The sign beeped several times and finally slid back.

"Ah, thank you," Percy said, before making the sign blow up. Without much thought, he charmed the security spells to become visible and began to slowly dismantle them. He always knew that his obsessive memo reading would come in handy someday. "No, oh, these are actually quite simple _… diffindo_ , there, now… ah, there we are. Watch out a moment for those flying daggers- _protego_! And… counter that and that and ah, good, we're in with very little trouble. All the really difficult spells and curses are on the top floor. Pray let me go first. Thank you."

Percy then flushed himself down, followed closely by Kingsley Shacklebolt. Somehow, Shacklebolt was still holding on-to a screaming Teddy Lupin.

"Oh, here, give him back to me. He always gets fussy when I'm out of sight, even to use the bathroom or shower." Percy held out his arms.

Shacklebolt handed Teddy over gladly, waiting for the five others who slid in after him.

"All right, step only on the white tiles, and be very careful about it. Mind you the tiles must be _pure white_ or else said tile _will_ explode and you _will_ be in a lot of pain. No, I'm afraid I don't know why Ministry security is this needlessly complex, sorry. There aren't any defenses on the lift, however. I suppose we ought to be grateful for that. Oh, Dementor's are probably lurking about around here. In-fact …All the extra Dementor's are."

As soon as he said it, they came swooping down. Percy's hawk joined Shacklebolt's lynx along with what looked like a rabbit and a chameleon.

"Don't be alarmed, stay on the white tiles! Thank you."

They made their way to the lifts with relatively little inconvenience after that and crowded in.

They were silent as Percy pushed the button to the top floor. Percy took the opportunity to burp Teddy again before they reached the top floor and the lift doors slid open. "Now, I feel I should warn you, that they have probably altered security enough not to admit me, so we'll have to go through the entire tedious defensive system. I do so apologize for the inconvenience."

"Who seeks admittance?" a cool, feminine voice asked.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley."

"Name not cleared for admittance to this floor," the voice replied tonelessly.

At that, a Dementor bore down on them, and Percy's hawk (born out of the memory of Fred laughing and pulling him back into the family) drove it off into the shadows. Then the very carpet seemed to rise up to swallow them-

" _Diffindo_ ," Percy said indifferently. "Shh, shh, calm down Teddy. I'll tell you another story, shall I - - how about that?"

At that moment a quartet of banshees, harmonizing horribly, swooped down on them. "Oh shut-it," Percy said irritably, making a cutting sweep across their throats with his wand. "I'm trying to tell a bed-time story here." They began clutching at their throats, looking furious. "Now, once upon a time there was a witch who had trouble doing magic. She was very unhappy about it so she sent her cats… ah!" He transfigured the banshees into kittens and they sat at his feet, looking very puzzled indeed. "She sent her three- well, usually it's three, but we've got four here, so- her four cats out in the world in search of something to help her use her powers." Percy made a circular motion with his wand and then a flicking motion, causing the kittens to group together and go zooming down the hall. An iron curtain fell in the middle of the hallway once the kittens skidded past. Percy walked up and tapped it with his wand. " _Dico_."

"Password?" the curtain wished to know.

"Lord Voldemort."

The curtains began to part and Percy Vanished them both. "You see? You can only 'Vanish' them when they part, which I thought was rather clever, particularly since, if you do not 'Vanish' them, the curtain closes after you and you cannot leave. And the password I thought quite ingenious because the Ministry would know immediately if someone was trying to get into the top floor… now, back to teddy's story time.

"Oh, hang on. _Protego_." The walls began to fall in on them, but remained stuck around Percy's shield charm. "Now we just have to wait a few moments before the hallway realizes it can't eat us. Well, where was I? … oh yes; the first cat went out into the world and brought her back a crystal ball. The witch looked into it and could see vague shapes of things to come and which had not yet passed. It was very powerful magic, but hard to understand. Oh, look, here are the kittens again."

The walls gave up and slowly creaked back to their proper position.

"Thank you. Now, the second cat brought back a broomstick, so that the witch would be able to fly above the earth and see all. She could fly very, very fast and go very, very far- and… oh, hold-on one moment. - - _Wingardium Leviosa_ \- - you might wish to do the same, the floor's going to drop out from underneath you in three… two… there it goes. The witch could fly all over and reach the tops of the highest trees, but flying was not very useful on its own".

"Hang on again… I can probably jam the mechanism so the floor will come back. Oh, you might wish to shield yourselves, too." Percy, trailed by the banshee kittens, floated down the hall, shifted Teddy so that his left hand was free and pulled a quill out of his shirt pocket. He inserted the tip into a minute-hole that was half-disguised by the wallpaper and jiggled it in until something inside the wall clicked. The floor slowly rose up to meet them.

As expected, however, there suddenly came forth a barrage of curses from all of the walls. Percy left the others to deflect them as he began to tweak with the system and dismantle it. "Now, the third cat came along … well, I suppose we shall make the fourth cat that comes back - - - ' _incendio'_ … there, that should take care of one wall - - - with a wand, won't we? So… the third cat (duck, Minister), came back with… er … (oh, _protego_ ) …with a quill. And, er… with the quill, the witch could er… she could write down her thoughts and think up of new spells. And, er, well, I'm not very good at … ( _protego_ again and… ah ha! Clear shot! _Aguamenti_! …"

"I almost forgot, the four elements are required to dismantle the walls, a different one for each)- I mean, I'm not very good at imagination and such nonsense: 'so the gist of it is' - that the knowledge of how things are done, is in itself …a very powerful talent indeed, though it's limited a-bit without practical application. - OH, my; good-show burying the wall in earth, whoever did that was brilliant!"

"Any-road; the fourth cat came back with the wand and as soon as the witch picked it up, she felt as if she had found a part of her arm that she didn't know was missing. So the moral of the story - ah ha! _Ventus_! There we are, all done. So the moral of the story is that each branch of magic has its power, but most of it comes from the wand. Lovely, isn't it, Teddy?"

Teddy drooled in what seemed to be reasonable contentment and Percy, beaming and tucking away his wand away in his sleeve, turned around to look at the assembled witches and wizards by the lift. "All done, I think we shall be quite safe n - -"

Percy, however, had not counted on Dolores Umbridge still being in her office; particularly when he'd blown most of it up with ' _Weasley Wizarding Whizzes'_ , trademark fireworks, before leaving. With a wild screech of rage she flung the door open, leapt out, and grabbed Percy around the neck.

"How-how …dare you betray me?" she demanded, her wand prodding at his windpipe. Percy felt a minor chill of terror- the sleeve of her bright pink cardigan covered Teddy's face. "You- you of all people, who swore such total _loyalty_ to me and to the-the Ministry? No," she shouted at the group as Kingsley Shaklebolt moved forward. "You lift your wand and I shall kill him! It would be doing a service to the state after all he's done! After this _betrayal_! Worse of all Percy, you have _broken the law_."

Percy suddenly realized that he no longer cared. To hell with Dolores Umbridge and sucking up to the Minister and the Heads of the Departments- he was just as capable as any of them had ever been!

"You aren't protected anymore," Umbridge whispered her voice unctuous and horrible. "The Dark lord may have fallen, but you will go down with him. You have dared to violate the trust of Voldemort him-self and you have circumvented his commands … his law … and as punishment for your treachery; I will make you invisible to the world. No one will ever know any of your accomplishments; no one will ever know your failures. You simply will not exist. You haven't a prayer. You haven't anyway to defend yourself."

This, however, was not strictly true.

Percy had always been in the habit of stowing his wand in his sleeve- a detail which, Percy thought rather smugly, Dolores had just _never noticed_. While she was speaking, Percy very quietly slid his wand out of his sleeve into his hand.

"All bad children must be punished, Percy," Dolores hissed. "And the best way to punish you is for everyone to forget that you were anything more than a tool to implement policy. Don't think I haven't noticed how desperate you are to be noticed, to be praised; always relying on other people to make you happy. Well, Percy, let the punishment fit the crime. You will never, ever be remembered by anyone." She pulled back her wand to curse him.

In that moment, Percy realized that he really no longer scared of being forgotten, because no matter what happened, Penny would remember him, at least, just like she remembered all her dead French revolutionaries, forgotten by everyone else, and so would Oliver. He also realized that he was still a Gryffindor and Gryffindor's didn't take such guff whilst in pursuit of what's right. He spun out from behind her wand and, whipping his own wand out of his sleeve, lowered it at her chest.

Dolores's expression was almost comical. "Where did you…?"

"You are just another fool who never really noticed the tiny details that make any government work," Percy replied, pained. "And I should just like to mention that any Ministry decrees and that includes executive orders that are not properly 'ratified' by the legally constituted Wizengamot are not considered law; if they supplement existing laws, so really, _you_ and your Death Eater friends are the ones that broke the law.

Oh, you're looking clueless again and I can tell – because I've seen this expression on your face countless times before. The last time I was here, when I set your office filing system on fire - - did I mention that I was the Scarlet Pimpernel? - - I don't honestly recall if I did or not, so I thought I'd mention it again.

Tsk, tsk, not noticing the _details_ , Dolores. Just like you didn't notice this." He waved his wand and a jet of sea-green light blasted out from the wand tip, engulfing Dolores, who shrieked and clutched at herself. Percy watched as she shrunk and screamed until she suddenly lost the mouth and internal bits necessary to scream. Really, it was always the in the _details,_ Percy thought, bouncing Teddy up and down to keep him from crying. Everyone was deathly quiet.

"Oh I say!" Percy exclaimed. "I think I made a joke. Was that a joke?"

"Er, yes," someone said hesitantly.

"Well now! I'm getting to be quite the comedian."

After a few moments, Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, "What is she?"

"A sea cucumber," Percy replied brightly. "I transfigured the Minister of Magic into a sea urchin and then crushed him flat, but that was in the middle of a battle so my action were somewhat justified by circumstances. In this second encounter with evil, I thought it appropriate to keep with a nautical theme. Did you know, sea cucumbers aren't actually vegetables? They are echinoderms, a type of marine animal. I'm very fond of echinoderms. Look at the sea cucumber in the bottle Teddy!"

"You're in a very interesting mental state right now, aren't you, Percy?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Oh indeed sir," Percy replied. "I haven't slept since… what day is today?"

"Couldn't tell you", Kingsley replied

"Oh, I don't know either, which is why I don't know when I've last slept. Do forgive me, Sir. Do you want to touch the sea cucumber in the bottle Teddy? Be careful not to drop it, like its contents …it's rather slimy."

Percy crouched down and picked up the clear container before guiding Teddy's chubby little hand to the top of the bottle. "See it? Disgusting, isn't it Teddy? This bottle is the first of many prison containers for Delores Umbridge, the evil witch most directly responsible for the unlawful murder of so many Muggle-born's. She broke the law Teddy and now she must be punished according to the law."

Percy looked up and suddenly realized how silent everyone was.

"You," Shacklebolt said very slowly, "just dismantled the entire security system for the Ministry of Magic and transfigured Dolores Umbridge into a sea cucumber in-between telling a children's story."

"And burping Teddy," added Percy, who liked to make sure things were as accurate as possible. "No Teddy, don't shake the sea cucumber bottle like that, it will give Delores motion sickness. Let go Teddy."

"Just who are you again?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Oh, that's an interesting question actually - - for at the moment I'm not quite sure," answered Percy. "I was the loyal executive Assistant to several Minister's including the criminal Pius Thicknesse; who was the Dark Lords puppet Minister during the Death Eater takeover here - that particular Percy was for a long time a rather large prat. - I'm also the Scarlet Pimpernel, or rather, I used to be and most of you might know what he tried to do. Now a-days, I'm just Percy Weasley, unemployed ministry worker awaiting a possible war crimes trial for his part in the Thicknesse government of terror. . Ew, Teddy. I _told_ you not to shake so hard, I believe you've made Delores ill."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 13

In which Percy hides in his flat

Percy eventually went back to his two bedrooms flat and slept, but only after his grieving mother finally convinced him that she needed a major distraction to keep her mind off of Fred's passing, and to help motivate a re-boot her life after the loss of a son. – Teddy was the 'required' distraction; she'd taken care of Percy as an infant and thus was perfectly capable of taking care of dear little Teddy for a couple of days. Percy agreed but only if his mother watched over Teddy at his flat. He did not want his 'responsibility' anywhere near his cruelly pranking siblings. Once reassured; Percy slept for nearly two days straight. When he woke up, he almost felt happy, until he realized again … that Fred was dead.

He retrieved Teddy, from his sleep deprived mother and sent her via a port-key directly to the Burrow's lounge before crawling back to his flat's bedroom after hexing the walls and doors from receiving most outside human visitors. There he and Teddy really bonded - - with Oliver bringing in any and all needed supplies under the cover of darkness. Other than the occasional Oliver visits, Percy didn't see or talk to anyone for a solid fortnight. He did answer the numerous owls the new Ministry sent him, and after he had transported over all the files cabinets from his old office to his flat - - he spread administrative charts all over the floor of his lounge, almost-happily re-organizing the entire Wizarding world of Great Britain - - that is - - when he wasn't taking care of Teddy or lost in grief.

Oliver went with him to Fred's funeral, and his brother was laid to rest in the small family cemetery in the far corner of the Burrow. The family was a mess afterwards and during the traditional wake Oliver had filled him on the things he had overheard and gleamed from Quidditch friends. Oliver had told Percy; that his brother Ron along with Lee Jordon had been with 'cobra like focus' at the Burrow dealing with a nearly suicidal George.

The family hadn't been handling the loss of Fred all that well. Molly was going through bouts of depression that left her for long periods of time unable to do much of anything. This left the burden of housekeeping to whom at the Burrow? - - Ginny had an anti-homemaker bent since she was a little girl being stubborn about the bullocks surrounding girls being stuck with keeping house.

Surprisingly it was Ron of all people who stepped-up and took over, not wanting to neglect the brother who had literally saved his life - - Ron after cooking cleaning for his family would send cooked meals over to Percy through a spell he thought-up himself. The meals would appear on specially-crafted food trays that just popped into Percy's s ice-box each-mourning. All Percy had to do was reheat them. Being a lover of food, Ron loved to cook with only their mother being more talented in the kitchen. Without Teddy not underfoot to distract her, Molly had quickly succumbed to her grief again.

Except for his brother's funeral, Percy didn't go out at all. Oliver came over to Percy's flat every morning, bringing baby food and formula for Teddy along with a bottle of Wine for Percy and the two former resistance members would sit at the kitchen table together for hours not saying much of anything. Oliver took delight in eating the Ron leftovers and became Percy's only direct contact with the outside world … except for the countless Owl posts that came in from the Ministry every day. Oliver would also frequently travel to the Burrow as Percy's go-between with his still somewhat estranged family … a goodwill ambassador and - 'not so secret spy' – with instructions to keep tabs on Ron and Ginny with particular interest on how they were coping with The Potter/Granger romance.

Percy had no real interest at all with the highly-publicized… ' _boy-who-lived_ ' … love affair … with his pet bookworm, but he did worry over its effect on his two youngest siblings, Nor did he care about the Death Eaters still at large or the numerous trials of the captured snatchers, including quite a few of the; 'Tom Riddle' supporters that use to work inside the Ministry.

Percy assumed that his own trial was only being delayed until he finished with reorganizing the Ministry. Suspecting that he would soon be on trial; Percy also forbade all non-bill letters; newspapers and magazines from coming into his flat - with Oliver happily volunteering to sort his mail. Entering his third week of self-imposed house arrest; Oliver brought someone unexpected with him to breakfast one day - Percy's mother Molly.

"Don't eat that, Teddy," Percy said, conjuring up a high-chair and putting Teddy in it. He wondered if Madame Malkin made little sailor suits in pin-stripe. "Oh, thanks for picking up all of the rest of Teddy's stuff from Mrs. Tonks, mum. It was awfully decent of you."

"Oh, _Percy_ ," his mother said, even more tearfully than before. "Never a thought for your-self!"

"Oh no," said Percy. "I have plenty of those. It's just that if I think about them now I'll remember that Fred's dead and I've made a royal mess out of everything. I try to stay focused on the positive for Teddy's sake. By-the-way; does father have any idea when I'm to be tried for war crimes?"

"You're not going to be tried; your father in an attempt to make amends for the harm that we have both done to you as you grew up has been your strongest advocate at work. There were calls for you arrest, which was strongly rebuffed, and then certain political factions wanted to terminate you and your pay-bucket, but Kingsley shot that idea down by pointing out your absolutely vital administrative skills. - In fact; it was Kingsley that has insisted that your pay has be continued"

"You know Percy," his mother commented after a brief pause, in a too-upbeat and clearly forced tone of voice; while changing the subject. "I was - - I was thinking, dear. You seem to have taken too little Teddy Lupin and you've been so awfully lonely the last few years. Your father and I while discussing the Teddy situation had a thought. It is clear to us that the widow Tonks is in no state to take care of him. In fact; the poor dear was checked into St. Mungo's just after you got called away to the Ministry. They put her in the same ward as Lockhart and the Longbottom's where her mental state has frankly … continued to deteriorate. Teddy has no other living relatives and there are so many orphaned children right now. I don't think- that is, I'm sure she wouldn't-"t

"Yes mum?" Percy asked.

"You could… your father has made inquiries - - and you could adopt Teddy, you know."

The thought was almost too wonderful to contemplate. He then openly stared at his mother.

"You could dear! You're so responsible and Mrs. Tonks certainly can't care for him, and you'll never be lonely again, dear, and I- oh, I always thought Bill would have them first, but I would so love grandchildren. I asked your father about it and he's done all the preliminary work, checked with the various departments; got the proper approvals and the forms all filled out; it just needs a couple of signatures and some- some personal details about yourself, and it's all set."

Percy felt himself smiling. He held out a finger for Teddy to grasp in his own smaller, chubbier ones. "Well Teddy? What do you think?"

"Dadadadadada," Teddy gurgled.

Percy was honestly and truly delighted. He felt happy for the first time since Fred died. "Alright, I'll do it."

His mother pulled out the forms from her purse, so thrilled at being able to finally do something for him. She then paused before saying; "Percy the adoption people did have one requirement for **single** , working, prospective parent",

"Yes, and what is it?"

"You have to get a house-elf, 'nanny' to take care of the child while you work. The war has left so many house-elves without families, the remaining pure-blood families are being gently pressured to take at least one into their households. Arthur and I have one, Bill two. George, Ron and Ginny have been assigned one each.

"Ron has an elf?"

"Yes dear - - and he's not too happy about it. We have five at the Burrow now, and have more or less, taken-over all the household chores except the cooking. That's a task that Ronald and I alternate, the dear is so desperate to help all of us, stepping-up when I falter, talking to George to keep him from going catatonic, Keeping Ginny from hexing into oblivion a certain Bookworm".

"I told you countless times that the family was making a mistake with Ronnie. Belittling him constantly has borne the fruit of serious self-image issues. Pranking him about Granger just made him dig his heels in deeper".

"But he is free of her now"

"She was his first experience with adult love, and speaking for myself, I haven't really gotten over losing Penny. He'll carry a torch of unrequited love for Granger for many years … just as I have. Now let's get back to when I can adopt Teddy, what's' left to be done?"

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Six weeks after the Hogwarts battle and the entire Ministry was still in shambles, the adoption process was helped along great when Percy went around the counter and showed a newly hired muggle-born clerk how to cross index the files and route them to the appropriate departments. The adoption hearing itself just turned out to be with an overworked Law clerk that Percy walked slowly (step-by-step) through the procedure. As Percy was not blood related to Teddy the last step involved chatting with the- **pro-tempore** -Minister of Magic; Kingsley Shacklebolt over a tea break (and a bottle break for Teddy; Percy still didn't like being parted from him).

"So," Shacklebolt said coly. "I'm pretty impressed with the way you've reorganized the entire Ministry during the last six weeks and by owl-post, no less."

"Thank you sir," Percy said, scarcely paying attention to a word Shacklebolt said. "I've given the idea a lot of thought while the Death Eaters were in charge. And I have a number of suggestions for your consideration, especially in light of how many trained people were lost to the Ministry during the war. But that's for later and not really the only reason behind why I asked to see you sir… er… I'm sorry to spring this on you, sir, but, er…."

"Name it, kid."

Percy, beet-red, pulled his chair closer to the Ministers desk and spoke in earnest; "Right from the off - - Sir, I'm aware that the ' _ **Diplomatic Service**_ ' has lost almost its entire staff due to the Death Eater 'purge' of the disloyal. Burrocratic procedures can be taught to new hires rather quickly …but a key facet to any diplomatic position is the 'talent' of being liked by foreign people. I have someone in mind… a member of my family who is friendly and outgoing and has the god given talent of being liked by almost everyone he meets …"

"…You're speaking of your youngest brother Ron… yes?" Kingsley said. "I offered him a post in Law enforcement with Potter but he turned me down, he has a sharp analytic mind which would have made him an excellent Auror. But he said that he and Potter had a falling out during the war and they had decided to go their separate ways. Ron then told me he was going to work in the joke shop with George".

"I've been informed indirectly through a friend … that George has decided to sell the shop to the Phelps brothers," Percy replied. "He told my mother just yesterday that the shop has too many sad memories for him to work there again. Besides; an old friend from his Hogwarts days ... has recently been coming over to speak to George and has taken a-lot of Ron's, 'George worries' off his hands."

"Lee Jordan?"

"You are very well informed, Sir!" Percy said sounding surprised.

"Your father is a close friend of mine. So that stills leaves little Ronald is without viable employment. May I assume that returning to Hogwarts with Granger is out of the question."

"At the moment, being anywhere in the same country as his two ex-friends is too close", Percy answered honestly.

"I understand that, especially after Granger's - - big announcement - - about her and Potter. I'll tell you what … I've already had a chat with Arthur about Ron - - wondering if we couldn't find him a place here at the Ministry, but until right now I had no idea where to put someone with his unique talents", Kingsley said with brutal honesty.

"As it just so-happens, I recently asked - _**Richard Harris**_ – to come out of retirement; he was Fudge's ambassador to Italy, Greece and those Slavic states that once composed the former Yugoslavia. I can offer your brother an apprenticeship under Ambassador Harris to learn the position of diplomat … first hand … from the finest diplomat we ever had in Eastern Europe … under the understanding that he will take over the_ multi-country position _from Harris in less than five years. Richard told me he's agreeable to coming back … but only temporarily until I find a proper replacement",

"A deputy Ambassador Position is more than I hoped for", Percy admitted.

"He'll earn every galleon, I assure you", Kingsley said sternly. "From what I understand, Ambassador Harris is a hard taskmaster. "In fact; I'll do you one better … as I was at a lost as to whom to post with him as Harris has a reputation for working those assigned to him into the ground. So I'll approach Ronald myself… later tonight, for I'm invited to dinner at the Burrow".

"I don't know how to thank you Sir"

"Okay that's the first request settled, I'm as sure as you are; that Ron will jump at the chance to leave the country for a few years to recover from what ' _ **they**_ ' both did to him. Keeping him busy twenty-four seven will be just what the Doctor ordered (so to speak). Now what's the second reason you wanted to see me", Kingsley asked.

Percy pulled out the adoption forms and handed them over. "I've been- well, my mother's been visiting Mrs. Tonks and according to her healers … she's- she's really lost it - and I've been looking after Teddy ever since the Battle and I am awfully fond of him. I mean, he really doesn't have anyone else." Percy stared at Teddy, who was lying in an enchanted and self-rocking … 'carrying cradle' -that had once transported every Weasley about; since Bill. "I mean, I know you're a very busy man, Sir, but just the other day my mum managed to find Mrs. Tonks- lucid enough -to sign, and I…." Percy trailed off and fiddled with his cufflinks. He hated asking people for _anything_.

"So… you turn out to be the famous Scarlet Pimpernel, the bloke who emptied Azkaban of all its political prisoners, warned countless others to flee the country, Convinced France to take in the refugees, give the Goblins the legal means to prevent the Ministry from stealing the gold of incarcerated muggle-born's vaults and then … single-handedly dismantle; the entire security system of the Ministry in-between telling a bedtime story. Not to mention that via own-post giving me a fully functioning government to work with … and all you want in return is for Ron to get a post in the diplomatic service and to adopt an orphan who has no claims on you; because the only relative who could care for him has gone insane?"

"I would like to keep some-sort of position at the Ministry - as well -." Percy rambled-on, rather meekly. "I sure you'll need one or two quailed middle level management types, a very junior-assistant to a department head – in records for example, your new clerks mean well, but they do need to be trained up a-bit. I'm sure I could be useful somewhere in your administration. All I'm asking is a position with a pay-bucket just large enough for me to pay my monthly bills," He still couldn't quite look Shacklebolt in the eye and stared at his tea cup instead. - - "Doesn't have to be much – no fancy title or anything – in fact - I'm told the national hero; Harry Potter is legally Teddy's godfather, so of course, Harry ought to - - I mean, if he wants to adopt Teddy instead… I will step aside - -" it was hard to speak around the lump in his throat "- I will withdraw my claims, but…."

"He may have saved the world, but he's still an immature teenager in many ways. There is no way that I'm entrusting a seventeen-year-old with deep psychological issues and subject to drastic mood swings … a Hogwarts drop-out no less … with bringing-up an infant".

"I thought he was going to become an Auror?" Percy asked in surprise.

"Yes, he is … and Harry's at the Auror Academy right now, but the psychological profile that been done on him there; has turned up some things that I find frankly …disturbing. I'm sure you've heard from Ronald; that Harry was abused as a child, forced to live in a cupboard under a stairway. He's still subject to frequent PTSD nightmares, and last but not least there have been people trying to kill him every year since he turned twelve. Our national hero is a mentally mucked-up kid and after all he's been through, I'm surprised he's not in a padded cell"

"But he has Granger"

"I've always felt that Hermione has been more of a caregiver to that boy than a lover and she has her own people-skills baggage to deal with. I wouldn't trust either one of them with a small child', Kingsley said sternly.

Percy looked up and couldn't keep himself from beaming. "You- you mean it, sir?"

Shacklebolt signed the papers. "There you go. You're now a father - Officially."

"Thank you again, sir," Percy said, reverently.

"Furthermore, there-is no way that I wasting your obvious talents as a minor bureaucrat. As of right now, I'm naming you as First undersecretary and Chief Administrative assistant to the Minister of Magic. That also makes you 'officially' my Deputy Minister. If some lingering Death Eater resistance gets me, I wouldn't want the Ministry in anyone's hands - but **yours.** "

Sir …sir, I don't know what to say - -"

"Then don't say anything. By-the-way, as you know a-lot of house-elves became orphaned when their Death-eater Families perished in the war. I can imagine that it will be difficult for you to hold down a full time position as my deputy and be a full time single parent as well. With that in mind I was extremely pleased to hear from Arthur that you are willing to join the rest of us survivors and take on some of the displaced house-elves. I'm assigning you an additional orphaned house-elf to help with your son and domestic chores. You'll have to adopt them into your personal family – of course."

"Granger had it all wrong about her little 'S.P.E.W.' project; freedom does not work with most House-elves." Percy agreed firmly.

"Do you know the bonding ritual for House-elves?

Percy stared at him in abject astonishment. "You know sir, I don't think I do! After-all; Weasley's with house-elves was unthinkable just four years ago. I'll research the ritual right-away … I – I …hold-on, Sir- you can't name me as your deputy Minister – the press won't stand for it. I was a-part of – and a senior official within the Thickness administration… surely you want to clean-house of anyone connected with - - -."

Shacklebolt waved away his thanks. "Good try Percy – but it won't work. Right from the off), all the senior members of the Thickness administration were Death Eaters - - and they are either **all** **dead** or in **Azkaban**. Secondly) you are ' the' Scarlet Pimpernel and that fact – all by itself – cancels any objection to you severing in my administration from the Wizengamot or the media. Your father has been very vocal on that point. And while we are on the subject, what exactly did you do; that has the French and the Spanish Ministries of Magic singing your praises so loudly? Madame Delacour _and_ her personal assistant talk more about you than they mention Harry Potter".

"I mean, half of Europe's media is abuzz with stories about the Scarlet Pimpernel - - testimonials from refugees on how they owe their lives to you. I normally discount the latest craze running-amok in the media, but when the Daily Prophet began to run a series of articles translating what was being said about you on the 'Continent', I had to take official notice. But it has been the French government's praise in particular, that has me so utterly gob-smacked - for they have always hated British Ministry officials."

"Articles, Sir… as in more than one?" - - Percy asked blankly.

Shacklebolt summoned a copy of the newspaper from a side table. "You've been on the front page in our newspapers for a solid fortnight now, competing for space with the Potter/Granger thingy."

Percy stared in shock at a picture of him working at his desk. Picture-Percy looked absolutely exhausted and did not look up from the piles of paper-work on his desk. It must have been a more recent picture. The newspaper headline informed the world that;

 **OoOoOoOo**

LATEST UPDATE CONCERNING _MINISTY OFFICIAL PERCY WEASLEY UNDERCOVER OPERATIONS AS THE MYSTERIOUS SCARLET PIMPERNEL;_

' _QUIDDICH STAR OLIVER WOOD AND AUTHOR GILDEROY LOCKHEART WERE REVELAED TODAY AS LEADING MEMBERS OF THE PIMPERNEL LEAGUE - - A GROUP OF WITCHES AND WIZARDS WHO MOST DIRECTLY ASSISTED_ ' WEASLEY, IN SAVING THOUSANDS FROM CERTAIN DEATH.

 **OoOoOoOo**

"Well," Percy said awkwardly not daring to read further.

"I bet you've been barricaded in your flat working around the clock on the Ministry reorganization plan?" Shacklebolt asked, grinning. "I know Oliver wood has been your go-between and probably hidden away any reference to the media feeding frenzy, just to keep you from having some sort of fit."

"Er," said Percy gob smacked.

"I'll file this myself," Shacklebolt continued on, taking the adoption forms. "You take the rest of the day off and get Madame Malkin to make you something we can parade in front of foreign dignitaries. Potter has very childishly refused to do any publicity junkets, or speak to crowds."

"Er, I've been told that Granger did most of Harry's important speeches while at Hogwarts," said Percy referring to what he'd heard from Ron.

"Granger doesn't interact with people all that well either, she prefers to give lectures. I can attest to this as I've been on the receiving end of several of those lately", Kingsley snarled.

OoOoOoOoOo

The lights come up for yet another brief intermission, the play will resume shortly, you have just enough time to go to the loo and grab refreshments.

End transmission…


	5. Chapter 5

HP story; **the miss-Adventures of the Magical Scarlet Pimpernel**

Based on a short HP story rated K - - as crafted by Elyse3 at fan-fiction dot com called; **The Scarlet Pimpernel** \- - First published: 09-14-07 possible completion date: 11-04-08

This will be yet another in a long-line of Hollywood remakes by Billybob-csagun36

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(Rewrite Author last rant)

Do I need to point out 'yet again'; that JK Rowling had three additional books to write a believable- _**love story**_ -between Ron and Hermione as well as Harry and Ginny. However during her news conference of February 8th 2014, she announced her utter failure to create a binding romance between either couple.

In fact; JKR stated that if she could redo her Harry Potter books the ending would include Harry romantically involved with Hermione at the time of the epilog. In JKR's opinion; Ron and Hermione would have too many marital problems to make a successful long-term marriage. Ron was a personal choice for JKR with nothing to do with 'Plot' reasons. However; from the various HP assays I have read in the lexicon (when it was still up and running and accepting new analytic assays) - Harry would be a very bad fit for Hermione as well. On this point I fully agree.

So in this story I give Rowling's her alternate ending; as a sub-plot to the Percy story you have been reading. The plot twist is; Ron gains a life without being surrounded the golden trio… because with or without Hermione I will always be a huge fan of the 'normal guy' (underdog) versus any 'prophecy supported Hero'. And that applies to Percy as well as my all-time favorite- HP Character –Ronald Bilius Weasley.

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 **Disclaimers:** as already stated - _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ was originally written by Baroness Orczy and - 'any and all' - copyrights belongs to her descendants, I use it because I love it, and I think it fits almost perfectly into the world of Harry Potter. **Traditional Disclaimer:** I'm not the author of the Happy Potter books, and the only profit I seek is the amusement of my _**few**_ internet readers. JKR owns everything else.

I am admittedly not even a remotely trained writer; I have even been asked if English is a second language for me. There will be grammar and writing format errors in this 'tale' that will turn many stomachs. Honestly-people there is only so much spell check will do. I consider myself an unskilled…story teller, who shouldn't be allowed to publish.

Again; you have been **warned**! - so - "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here"

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Part 5

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Percy did as he was bid, and got some nice play clothes for Teddy, along with a little set of pinstripe formal robes. Percy then made a rare visit to the Burrow where he left Teddy in the care of his mother, who happily took charge of her first grandchild. "I think I'm going to spend the evening with Oliver, if you don't mind" Percy said, still a little dazed. "Oh and by the way, Mum. I've been promoted to Deputy Minister of Magic. Youngest- **ever** -to hold that position in any governmental administration."

"And you headed a Ministry department all by yourself at eighteen - so I'm not at-all surprised at you becoming deputy Minister. Go and celebrate with your 'special friend', dear!" his mother urged, shooing him out of the kitchen.

"Er, right," Percy agreed.

Percy didn't really get the chance to tell Oliver much of anything when he arrived at his friends flat, except that he had adopted Teddy. For Oliver immediately pushed him directly out the door and duel-apperated them both to a pub where over their first adult drink… Oliver reluctantly admitted to him that he had just come from another disastrous dinner date where yet another bird had dumped him on their second date and to avoid questioning over what had happened, instead he confessed that they were 'once again' on the front page of the ' _ **Daily Prophet**_ '. They then stared at each other rather awkwardly – before toasting the honor of Percy's unwanted celebrity status. To mourn another day as survivors …they then decided to get blind-drunk/smashed, because they couldn't figure out what else to do.

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Two hours later, Oliver and Percy were successfully sloshed. Percy had, before the fire-whiskey numbed his brain enough to make him feel too incoherent to speak rationally, said something to the effect that it was too hard to deal with all the pain of loss a war brings and the necessity of rebuilding so much afterwards. To offset such pain a person had to 'occasionally' numb your-self to it to make carrying-on with life bearable.

Oliver had then poured a shot of fire-whiskey down his throat, thus ending (more or less) all rational conversation for the evening. - - "God that was intense," Oliver said, a bit blearily, sliding his glass across the bar for Aberforth to refill. "I'll have another."

"This is what, your eighth this evening?" Aberforth inquired, pouring Oliver another glass none-the-less.

"Eleventh," Percy corrected, because he liked things to be accurate and precise and he had a mind for details.

"I shouldn't be giving this to you", the old wizard said from behind the bar. "You're not planning on Apparateing-out …are you? You bloody youngsters. When I was your age - -"

"Goats," Percy interrupted softly, since he had had access to all the files in the Ministry of Magic for quite some time now.

Aberforth promptly shut up.

Oliver sighed heavily. "What's it- wazzit been? - It's Friday… yes? - - I know that 'cause we always get drinks on Friday. When was the- that thingy… With the…?" Oliver trailed off and made strange hand motions.

"Battle?" Percy asked. He hadn't been drinking as much as Oliver.

"Yeah … that thingy," Oliver agreed. "Feels like a long-long time ago – an' – an' - it's still as raw an'- an' hurts as much as it did before. I mean- I mean…." He tried to think. "Should be _happy_ , I mean **us**. World-wide fame… Front page for weeks. Good deeds all around. - - - Still can't play Quidditch though. Training camp doesn't open until next week, they say … I'm out of shape … not been on a broom in like …for-ever" Oliver waved his empty glass around clumsily, his famed Quidditch skills failing him. "Nother."

"What's gotten you two heroes so depressed?" Aberforth asked sarcastically, pulling out the fire-whiskey and snatching the glass from Oliver who replied: "We aren't heroes, we are just average blokes that stepped-up, and anyone would have done the same in our place".

"And what about you", Aberforth then asked Percy.

"What's wrong with me … A-side from the total destruction of nearly everything even remotely familiar? Hogwarts is now in ruins, shops here in Hogsmeade and in Diagon alley closed and boarded-up. Our magical population has been reduced by half from what it was just a year ago" - Percy stated dully, laying his head down on the grimy countertop, too tired to care anymore. "But most important and right on the top of my list: most of our friends are dead. It's just me and Oliver now, innit Oliver?" Oliver made a noise that might possibly have signified agreement.

"Everyone else we knew in our year from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and even most of the Slytherin's are dead- as are most of the people we knew who were in the years before us and after. Oh, and I'm rather under tons of stress because, I'm taking care of an orphaned infant and running and the entire Ministry yet again. There are loads of new hires to train-up, most of them Muggleborn's … thank Merlin. The main problem has been filling senior or high ranking department heads; because most were murdered during the take-over and those that replaced them were either Death Eaters or their supporters." He flung up a hand dispiritedly. "Huzzah."

"As for me … I've heard my ex-girlfriend has a new thingy," Oliver added drunkenly.

"French Boyfriend," Percy countered.

"Yeah, that!"

"It was only to be expected," Percy replied, dully, his head on the surface of the bar, one hand still wrapped around his untouched second glass of fire-whiskey. "She's a rare beauty, great listener … did I mention that she's beautiful … inside and out? Besides, you prat - she dumped you… with good cause, but you never told me an exact date. Must have been some time last year."

"Wuzz- wuz got you so depressed?" Oliver asked. "'I'MMMM th'one who's lost the, lost the-"

"Girl."

"Yeah."

Percy closed his eyes and slurred. "Well, I did see my brother die right before my eyes. And most of my family still hates me, well …maybe they all just - - despises me a-tad. I don't know anymore."

"Ron doesn't hate you … he's cooked your meals, cleans your flat …he's a-bit of all right … that one. Oh yeah, he made his peace with you and now he's loyal and true-blue as they get … that one is a keeper - - in spite of the fact that he's a-bit … tra- tro... "

"…Traumatized over the Granger reveal", Percy interjected.

"Spot on… she's such a flat figured shrew … and a frosty bint too, never understood what Ronnie saw in her … it sure wasn't boobies," Oliver said before giggling hysterically.

"Not much of a figure at all actually"; Percy observed casually.

"Yeah, that. Gred and Forge… they always took the piss on Ronnie over Granger - - they were like… they were like … twins… you-know? Cause they were." Oliver held up three fingers. "Best two… hang on…." With some difficulty Oliver pressed a finger down. "Bes' two Beaters I've ever played with… brilliant lads. Like they could- could… - Er - Read… "

"Not many people knew Fred and George were literate," Percy added, rather sadly. "I taught them, did you know? I taught them to read and they used to enchant my books to chase after me. They were supremely talented, now that I think of it."

"…read …each-others minds", Oliver concluded in a slur of drunkenness.

"I don't think I ever really appreciated them," Percy said sorrowfully. "I think they were right about me … I may have been born without a sense of humor."

"That's really sad. Gonna drink that?"

Percy slid the fire-whiskey over to Oliver, who missed catching it.

"'Sodd, innit?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah," Percy agreed. "I've gotten almost everything I've wanted 'career wise' and I'm still not happy. I think there really was one thing I honestly, truly, wanted, and never got. The fact that I got everything else just makes it more… painfully clear."

"Wazzat?"

"I've got a monthly pay-bucket three times bigger than my dad's yearly salary. In fact I was obscenely- **well-paid** -as special assistant to Umbridge and Thickness – getting loads more gold than I could ever spend. They must have thought they could buy my loyalty with gold, but they were wrong. All that gold is in Gringotts and with that kind of dosh, I think I could-have run for Minister of Magic one day; if it wasn't for my being a big-part of the Thickness _**genocide program**_. But to offset all that bad … I've got, ' _quite shockingly'_ , a son, and in him I get the family I always wanted. I'd gained power, but… well, I always thought I'd be married first. Or at least… engaged before I went and had children."

"Problem is-" Oliver said, shaking his finger at Percy. "Issat- issat you dunget - dunget out."

"No, I don't get out," Percy agreed, a little sadly.

"Drink up," Oliver advised.

Percy obeyed, which meant that he completely forgot the rest of that evening.

888888

When he came to the next morning, Percy found himself on the couch of Oliver's flat, holding a Quaffle like a teddy bear. He had lost a shoe somewhere, his glasses were askew, his tie was around his forehead, and his robe was on backwards. He rather wished he could have remembered what he had done the night before 'or' how he had gotten to Oliver's flat? "Oh ' _Sweet_ _Merlin on a bike'_ , what did I do with Teddy?"

He shot up-right and quickly realized what a _bad_ idea it was. His head ached horrifically; every part of him was stiff-

Oliver shuffled by blearily and sat down beside him. "Hey, how long do you think I've been attracted to Angelina Johnson?"

Percy tried to think. "Since Fifth year; I believe. Yeah…that's right; after she scored that goal that won the game against Slytherin."

"Ah! Of course," Oliver flopped back against the couch; tugging his bathrobe tighter. "Well to tell you the truth, I asked her out a couple of times just for dinner …you know".

"Oh God, Oliver, Didn't she used to be Fred's girlfriend?"

"Yeah, I know …okay, we didn't get to the- 'riding my broom' -stage… which is why I'm wondering ' _why in hell_ ' she's sleeping naked in my bed right now. I mean, I liked Fred and there are some things I just don't do. I was tempted I admit it. But it ended at dinner last night. Meanwhile I wake up on the floor next to my bed with Alicia Spinnet who is also fully starkers and cuddled up against the equally naked me …both of us half wrapped in a blanket, so I think I was too busy with Alicia to shag Angelina"

"… Sweet Merlin; my best mate bags two birds in one day …becomes a ruddy stud after the war and if that's what you want to be… good for you". Percy said as he flopped over onto his side of the couch, shielding his face from the light. He was quite desperate to shift the conversation away from Oliver's usually active sex life. "But I have bigger problems right now. Do you remember who has Teddy right now?"

"I dunno. Who'd you leave him with before coming out to drink with me?"

"I can't remember!" Percy wailed.

"Not so loud, please?"

"I've given myself a hang-over headache too, so no worries." Percy admitted.

"So, as I was saying; I think I may be 'finally' over my heartbreak with Penelope Clearwater," Oliver said, after a bit.

"I'm the one pinning away for that particular unattainable, not you", Percy snorted. "If you recall, Penelope told you forcefully to 'shove-off' on your third dinner date. Due primarily, to you demanding that she too: take a- 'ride' -your broom".

"I never demand; I just strongly suggest and that phrase has turned into a huge misunderstanding over terminology with all of them." Oliver explained.

"Most girls have a better grasp of the three date rule than you do… you **Git**. Besides you're the lucky-one, at least your Healer considered the broom-ride, Penny and I hadn't gotten that far in our relationship before she ended it. Historically speaking; most girls never agree to go on a second date with me", Percy admitted sadly. "It was Katie Bell that was your unattainable. You chased that bird for two years and never got even a sisterly snog".

"Lord knows that's true;" Oliver said in an off handed manner.

"But now you have two spent birds in your nest … and even if you aren't sleeping with Angelina, you did bangAlicia Spinnet last night and God knows how many others since the war ended. So …mister stud; I'd agree with you by saying that you're probably over Katie too," Percy said, trying to keep the dread out of his voice.

"But maybe you can help me with something", Percy said. "You said last night during our- 'binge' -that you heard … that she's - - as in 'Penelope', gotten herself a new boyfriend, so… erm, where did you hear that?… because Penelope is safe living in France now… happily too, or so I thought".

"Okay-okay … I was at a party the other night with some French chaps, they are here as a-part of the French magical delegation visiting London this weekend", Oliver admitted. "One of them said that an English refugee named Clearwater had hooked-up with a best-mate of his. Soon to be engaged he said, so it looks like she's over me."

' _And me too obviously'_ , Percy thought miserably.

"Well, if she is engaged to a frog … we can both move on, and that means that I can finally reassure my parents that I'm not gay."

"Did your parents really think we were sleeping together? I was in the Ministry the other day and someone asked me if I was still snogging-you in my off-hours."

"Hunh," said Oliver. "Well, I am devilishly attractive."

"Yes, but I fancy _women_ , Oliver."

"There would have been nothing wrong with it if you'd fancied me too," Oliver said.

"Except for the fact, that you're not a woman, Oliver."

"True, Perce. However, when's the last time you had a girlfriend?"

Percy made a vague hand-gesture and wished he'd picked up a couple of hang-over spells from Bill. "Two years ago? I was going to marry her too, Penelope …you know, but she walked out on me and for good reasons too; I was a royal prat at the time. Worst week of my life, that. Girlfriend leaves me; my parents disowned me and my siblings try to kill me, with most of my co-workers ignoring my very existence…"

"Oh."

They were silent.

"You know, I bet you could get girls now, Perce," Oliver suggested. "I mean, you're the Scarlet Pimpernel and all… it's almost better than being a Quidditch star."

There was really only one girl Percy wanted. "I suppose."

"Why are you still moping?"

"I'm hung-over … badly hung-over."

"Oh."

8888

There came a sudden, loud drumming on the window, sending Percy and Oliver into groaning convulsions.

After five minutes of the non-stop noise; Alicia Spinnet shuffled out of Oliver's bedroom; a sheet draped about her like a toga, and opened the window. She sent them both looks of withering scorn as she shuffled back into the bedroom …"Gits."

"Not so loud!" lamented Oliver.

Percy buried his head under a couch cushion.

After a moment, Alicia shuffled back out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. "Well?"

"Well what?" snapped Oliver.

"Aren't you going to read your letter?"

"No!"

Percy buried his head further into the couch.

" _Gits_."

Oliver groaned. "You've already established that point and we don't deny being Gits. Just read the letter if you're going to open it, Alicia!"

Alicia was evidently feeling rather vindictive. She went into the kitchen and banged open all the cupboards and drawers and began searching through all the dishes, apparently under the impression that owls liked to roost among the stemware. "When is the last time you went grocery shopping, Oliver?"

"Mrs. Weasley feeds me whenever I visit the Burrow; other than that … I get left-over Ron cooking over at Percy's. But generally, I'm a lousy cook and burn everything I touch… even water. Next thing: like most professional Quidditch players - I eat on the road in restaurants. Finally; when a bloke charges into deadly danger and continually throws himself in the way of mortal peril during a civil-war, he doesn't have much time left-over to nip down to the grocer's to pick up chips and cucumbers!"

"Well, _**be that way**_." Alicia did another rattle-through of the kitchen. Percy's forehead met the springs of the couch in his attempts to stifle the noise. "Here you are, birdie. Eat two-week-old bread because Oliver is a big _git_." The owl hooted far louder than it needed to before flying off. Eventually, Alicia got around to opening the letter.

"Oi, you _Gits_ , listen up. - - -

8888

 _To: The Deputy Minister Weasley and his- 'league' -Mr. Oliver Wood_

 _Our national hero Potter, worshiped by witches everywhere … (although I don't know why) has yet again refused to attend any public gatherings. His designated 'stand in' for such things, Miss Granger; is out of the country trying to find her Parents. I guess her specially crafted Fidelius Charm worked far better on her mind-wiped relations than even she expected. Even with the counter-spell the magical Australians have been unable to find them._

 _Anyroad; as you might already know, a special gathering of the supreme council of the-_ _ **International Confederation of Wizards**_ _-is meeting this weekend in London. They have come to decide if England will be allowed to rejoin the international community after our little civil-war. Loans from the-_ _ **World Gringotts Bank**_ _-are required for magical England to rebuild and only 'ICW' can sign off on that. The heads of all other magical governments came here fully expecting to meet with Potter…the hero of our war. However: the Potter prat has been going through one of his frequent mood swings at the moment - - and is being childishly pig-headed about being left-alone and being a - 'normal bloke'- … whatever the hell that means._

 _I can't compel a national hero to do anything - - and if I do force the issue, he'll show up in a foul mood and pout all evening. As my deputy Minister however; I can order you here - so gab your 'League', clean yourselves up. Go get some dress robes suitable for the occasion and get your arses here - in time for, 'tea time' today?_

 _Yours cordially, Kingsley Shacklebolt_

 _A very pissed-off Minister of Magic_

8888

Percy heard all this and pulled himself out of the couch like a leviathan rising from the deep.

Oliver still lay sprawled against the couch, pinching his nose to stave off a headache. "Perce," Oliver opined, sunk in deepest gloom, "we're doomed."

"Pretty much," agreed Percy.

 **OoOoOoOoOoOo**

Chapter 14

In which lady Marguerite Blakeney returns and Percy is Happy

8888

Percy left Oliver's place hung-over and a tad confused. He could not entirely say he was looking forward to tea with all the heads of the magical governments from all over the world. All his life he had striven towards this kind of recognition, but he somehow couldn't quite feel smug about it. He had attended such political galas before, but usually an underling, in the shadows making sure that these kinds of meetings went off without a hitch. Now he would be 'stage center' and the 'main act' and that thought unsettled his stomach. It could have something to do with his headache, or the fact that he felt like something small, furry and possibly lethal had crawled into gullet to die there and was now in a state of advanced decomposition.

His headache only got worse by the fact that when he got to the Burrow (after a-bit of shopping), he found several unexpected visitors at his parents' home. Percy rubbed his aching forehead as soon as he glanced inside the front door. His head hurt too much to try to 'Apparate' again, and so he tried to make his way through the kitchen as unobtrusively as possible. He was entirely unsuccessful in this attempt, as Fleur and Bill were in the kitchen. Fleur was feeding Bill off her plate, and turned to beam at him as he walked in. "Ah, _le petit espion de ma maman!_ "

" _Bonjour Fleur_ ," Percy said tiredly. "Hallo Bill."

"You all right, Perce?" Bill asked, swallowing his steak tartar. "You look like you've been through hell."

Percy blinked. "Haven't we all? … Been through hell I mean. You look very beautiful as always, Fleur."

Fleur beamed at him again. "Ooo, you English can be charming ... at times!" She said as she glanced in a soul way at Bill. " _Maman_ says there is a 'meet and greet' planned for today! Informal; of course … A, euh… what you call a British style … high-tea?"

"Yes," said Percy regretfully, still rubbing his throbbing forehead.

Bill suddenly snorted. "Percy! I don't believe it! You're sloshed!"

"No," corrected Percy, a little nettled. "I _was_ sloshed. Now I'm just hung-over."

Now, really, Percy thought, Bill's grin was just _obscene_. It wasn't fair having two older brothers if one of them was Bill.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Bill exclaimed warmly. "Perfect prefect Percy- completely _smashed!_ "

"Is it so hard to believe I have a social life?" Percy demanded. "No …on second thought… don't answer that!"

Fleur got up very gracefully, stretching her arms overhead like a ballerina. "Not at all -, _mon frère_! Beeel, 'elp your brozzair!"

"Yes dear," Bill said automatically. Percy supposed this boded rather well for Bill's married life. Fleur waltzed over to pour a glass of lemonade, leaving Bill to poke his wand into Percy's forehead and mutter things.

After a moment, Percy's headache lifted somewhat. Fleur gave him the glass of lemonade as well as a smile so dazzling Percy felt dazed.

"Many th-thanks," Percy stammered, once he regained the use of his tongue.

"Eet ees important to stay, euh… ze word is 'igh- drated? Ah Yes, _hydrated_."

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding," Percy said, as a tacit peace offering.

Fleur and Bill looked at each other a moment. One raise of a blond eyebrow and Bill gamely slung an arm around Percy's shoulders. "It's my fault, really. We didn't send you an invitation."

Percy tried to look nonchalant.

"Beel!"

"What?"

Fleur hit him on the shoulder and turned to Percy, holding out her hands. "Ow is leetle Teddy? Ah! I am forgetting! Beel and I 'ave our own, euh… particular news to share," She quite smugly placed a hand on her torso. " _Monsieur le Scarlet Pimpernel_ , I would be more zan 'onored if you would be my leetle girl's godfather."

What was it about Fleur that made Percy feel like he'd been repeatedly hit in the head with something heavy? "I- I'd be her uncle… "

Fleur tossed her hair. "…And godfather."

"I'm- I'm sure- you would want someone- someone else…?"

Very quietly, Bill said, "Perce, to tell you the truth, if something ever happened to me or Fleur, I'd want you taking care of our child."

"Our daughter," Fleur corrected.

"You seem sure of that," said Percy, still reeling.

Fleur tossed her hair again. "Why should I not be sure? In my family, there are daughters first."

"Oh, alright," Percy said, his head still mildly aching from a blood alcohol level of unbelievable heights. "If- if you're sure."

"Vairy sure," Fleur said warmly. She kissed him on both cheeks. " _Bien_! Go up and wash your face and put on…." She tilted her head to the side, as if trying to figure out a polite way to say 'something that does not smell of booze and vomit and would make a hobo ashamed of wearing'. "Somezing… somezing presentable! Zair weel be lots of photographers …Yes?"

"Oh, great," said Percy, "Photographers."

"Bright flashes of light everywhere," Bill said, squeezing Percy's shoulders and releasing him. "You'll manage Perce. You always do, and do a hell of a lot better than the rest of us."

If Percy hadn't at that moment discovered the pressing need to vomit into a rubbish bin, this whole godfather bit… it would have been very touching. As it was, Bill very kindly gave Percy a paper napkin to wipe himself off, and Fleur got him a glass of water. Thus fortified; Percy regained his feet and left the kitchen to make his way upstairs, entirely forgetting that he had to walk through the living room to get to the stairs.

He entered the living room as quietly as possible - his movements covered by the sounds of angry-conversation all of which died away abruptly as soon as Percy tried to reach the stairs. The rest of his family sat around the room, with Harry Potter standing in the far corner … under the heated glare of the rest of his blood kin - - the boy/hero who had been … just a year ago … more entrenched in his little family group and enjoying all the forms of Weasley normalcy in ways that Percy had never managed. He took one quick look around the room and decided that the great Hero had been recently banished from the bosom of his family.

"Pardon me," he said, very stiffly, and went toward the stairs as quickly as he could move.

"Oh, no, you don't!" his mother exclaimed while getting up and grabbing Percy by the sleeve as he tried to walk by. "Percy dear, are you alright? You look …"

"Went out with Oliver last night, got royally sloshed," Percy said shortly.

"Really?" Ginny said, with some mild surprise.

"We were in the same year," Percy replied, feeling rather peeved. "As of right now, Oliver and I represent in its entirety - the Hogwarts class of '93. From all four houses… everyone else is dead."

" _Told_ you," Ginny said, in a tone of insufferable smugness.

Percy ignored her. "Where's Teddy, mum?

His mother looked worried. "Upstairs; taking his nap, Percy."

"He behaved alright?"

"Teddy was - was a _tad_ fussy."

"He always cries when he doesn't know where you are," said George, rather suddenly. "Suppose he thinks you'll go the way of his mum and dad."

"Yeah;" Percy fiddled with his unbuttoned sleeves. "Er… I'll be going then. I'm off to work at four and I'll be taking Teddy with me."

Ron and Harry abruptly finished having some-sort of (muffled) and very heated argument in the corner of the lounge, which Ron resolved; by turning on the spot and apparateing away, Ginny was ignoring that Potter was even in the room and then stepped forward. "Percy, I'd just like to say that it took real courage to do what you did."

"Er… what I do?" said Percy.

"It was very brave of you to be the Scarlet Pimpernel and to dismantle the Ministry from the inside."

"Hm," said Percy.

"We all - - greatly admire you for this. You did what was right, regardless of the consequences", Ginny said. "And, well, _yes_ , although you did sell-out for power and position for a-bit … you- _e_ _ventual_ _ly_ -figured out the right course of action and recovered so spectacularly that it has changed the lives of hundreds, if not thousands of people."

"Oh… well …I …er," said Percy. He wished she would just stop already and let him go to Teddy.

"You are as much a hero as Granger's boy-toy, the spineless prat standing over there, pouting like a child over the friend he's lost. Harry, doesn't understand yet that getting into Grangers knickers … the girl he knew our Ronnie loved for years, has permanently broken the bond of friendship Harry once had with his 'former' best-mate", Ginny said while giving at a furious looking Harry who had heard everything … suddenly growled loudly in frustration - and a moment later stormed out of the Burrow in the direction of the pond.

"As you can plainly see; Ron and I aren't having any-part of Harry's lies anymore, and thank-Merlin neither is the rest of the Weasley clan. Mum gave him- ' _what-for_ ' -when he forced his way in here, demanding to see Ron. Mum blames him for leading our Ronnie down the garden path for years … hiding their relationship not only from him, but from me too. Luckily; during their little camping trip, Ron finally caught on to the charade and left".

"I know this already… " Percy began softly.

"…When Ron returned to them six months later in mid-April; they began to openly lie to him, manipulating his feelings for both of them… playing him for a fool, because they had reached the point where they couldn't go on without him. Potter had given-up and so had she …so Ron literally took-over, the top-secret project they couldn't tell any of us about - - and our Ronnie kept it going … right up to the bitter end".

"I know this too, everyone with a brain does, - Granger gave Ron full credit for saving the camping trip …during her much publicized announcement to the press about her and Potter dating", Percy continued but Ginny wasn't listening and kept rambling on.

"Contrary to what you might have been told by the media", Ginny continued as if Percy had never spoken. "Ron went down to the chamber alone, and destroyed the cup alone, while my ex-boyfriend was playing kissy-face in a back-hallway … with Granger. - - Don't believe me; ask the Hogwarts ghost – the grey-lady, she watched them going at it hot and heavy".

"The Grey Lady - let me in on the gritty little details when Harry was making his big sacrifice", Ginny continued. "They are frauds both of them. Harry had a prophecy written about him, that he had to face Voldemort which he did. Now the prophecy is fulfilled; the one and only thing propping him up for all these years has ended. So with any luck at all, destiny … is done with him."

Percy said nothing as he absorbed his sister diatribe… but he did notice that everyone else including his mother and father were listening intently to what Ginny was saying.

"Granger finally confessed the truth to Ron, even telling him she had shared Harry's bed while he was gone… she told him absolutely everything on the grand stairway after Voldemort had been put down, because they didn't need him anymore. She had loved Harry at first sight on the train back in first year; it had always been Harry for her. - - Don't trust either of them Percy, they're not right in the head. Oh, by-the-way; I'm going to take your- ' _rock advice_ ' -and go back to Hogwarts and concentrate on my Quidditch career".

"Thank you Ginerva; for telling me all this, and I glad you listened to my so-called …'rock advice' … but **I did** try to warn you-lot about those frauds, two years ago; remember?" - Percy stood there and watched as his estrangement took on a whole new light. Once he would have wondered why his entire family had- _**only now**_ -put the dots together. But then he entirely ceased to wonder. It was more of a wonder that Ginny had spoken 'at all' while he was there.

"We are proud of you," his mother said in a near whisper.

"Very," tagged on his father.

"I've got to go," said Percy. This family was unbelievable. Percy gave a little bow in recognition of all he had just learned - and felt a little happy that his family had finally knocked Potter off of his Demi-god pedestal … and he semi-smiled a little as he continued towards the stairs. His ears heated up to bright red; as his entire family was looking at him and … and - -

"Hey, hold on a second!" said- was it Harry? Percy turned to look. It couldn't be _Potter_. Harry, out of all of them, had the most reason to hate him. For the Scarlet Pimpernel had stolen some of his thunder recently, for without the benefit of a prophecy …Percy had done more to undo the genocide against the Muggleborn's than Harry had while hiding. He and Granger had to hate him for achieving what they couldn't, for neither of the national heroes had saved a single life in the last year.

Percy also knew about the half-blood mother that Ron had saved from Umbridge's courtroom. Percy knew this indirectly from Dean Thomas who also let it be known; that it had actually been at Ron's urging that Miss Lovegood and the others under Malfoy Manor had been taken by Dobby the house-elf to safety at- _**Shell Cottage**_. Dean had told Oliver the truth at Colin Creevey's funeral over a pint of bitters and Oliver had repeated the story to him. As a Ministry official Percy knew all too well how-often history was rewritten to embellish the fame of an unworthy Hero.

"Percy, old chap… I need a big favor from you, er… as one national hero to another." Harry said smugly.

"I'm not a hero like you are, Potter; national or otherwise, I don't ever want to be anything like-you… thank you very much. I was one of many that just did what was right during our civil-war. And I'm already doing you a big favor - - by filling in for you at the meeting of the _**International Confederation of Wizards.**_ "

"Yeah …yeah, I don't have to bother with that rubbish … not anymore",

"But you're wrong there. The loans of the world bank are vital to England rebuilding" He turned to make his way up the stairs again.

"I don't care about that… I've earned the right to be left alone; Percy!"

"Blast it, Potter … lives depend on those loans. Can you possibly be more self-absorbed". But Percy just wanted to go into his room and-and set something on fire, possibly, and then collect Teddy and get the hell out of there. Percy turned again, though his kept his expression bland.

"And like I said, I want to be left alone, but I'll do a few speeches for the mob - if you do me a big favor". Harry continued unabated. "I need you to have a little-chat with Ron about Hermione, as he won't listen to me",

"No surprises there", Ginny snarled.

"The big announcement that she made about- 'us' -wasn't my idea at all. Hermione and I are dating; yes, but it's not a serious thing… not for me anyway. We took advantage of him, yes, but it was all in a good cause. Without Ron taking us to Shell Cottage after Malfoy Manor to rest and regroup Voldemort would still be ruling England right-now. Hermione had to keep certain things from him for the greater-good. He needs to understand this."

"Oh I think he understands you better today, than he ever did before," said Percy, going up a stair backwards. "What I find amazing is that he went-back to you two; knowing full-well what you two had been doing for six months all alone… just in time to be caught in the- **Voldemort name trap** ".

"Hermione did all-that; she was the one that lied to him" Harry protested

"And you didn't with the – 'like a sister to me' – bullocks?"

"Look; just tell Ron that it's most likely; **not** going to work-out for us… between Hermione and me that is", Harry said forcefully. "She always seemed to step on my last nerve at school and yet she wants to date me really-really bad, so instead of being nagged to death over an issue of no real importance; I just gave in and let her have her way. As to how she feels about me now - - that is not my fault either, not really".

"Sooner or later she is going to catch-on that I don't feel about her the same way she feels about me. I've tried to tell her a dozen times … like she tried to tell Ron, by never encouraging him romantically, she overlooked Ron deliberately …everyone knew that. But just telling her she's not my type, flat-out …doesn't work; especially as she won't listen and has to 'figure out' the truth - in her own sweet time … just like Ron did. What I'm telling you is that Hermione has always fancied me far more than I ever did her… Cho and your sister Ginny proves that Hermione isn't my physical type for Merlin's sake. All we are right now is: _close_ _friends with benefits_ ".

"Oh how ironic, my brother suffered unrequited feelings for Granger for six long years and now you say that she suffers from the same kind of unrequited affliction for you. What a strange world we live in …where all the major players in this- _Greek-tragedy_ -pursue someone who is romantically unattainable to them", Percy said sadly. "Did you hear that Ginny, Potter dumped you for a girl he doesn't really love… how pathetically sad".

"I heard", Ginny replied with tears of pain and rejection pouring down both cheeks.

"Get out of our house Potter," said George, rather suddenly with his friend Lee Jordon appearing at his side for moral support.

Harry blinked and looked down the stairwell at George. "What did you say?"

George was very pale under his freckles, but he looked at Harry resolutely. "Haven't you done enough damage to my family, you've destroyed Ron and broken Ginny's heart, putting her into tears. I blame you for Fred's death. He and I had no idea what kind of bloke you really are. - I'm only sorry that Fred and I didn't do more to ween little Ronniekins away from you two backstabbers before he got hurt".

"Hermione broke his heart, not me…" Harry began to protest

"That's Dragon-dung: Potter … you broke Ronnie spirit too; for telling him the- ' _like a sister'_ –lie, over and over again for years. We all heard it. - - I also blame you for using Ginny as a Death Eater target stand-in… during your sixth year instead of coming out in the open with your precious bookworm and real-girlfriend. You were hip-deep in deceiving Ronnie about the truth so he'd go with you when you went into hiding'.

"Hermione wasn't my secret girlfriend during sixth year," Harry strongly protested

'Bullocks …and now …you've been caught-out in yet another lie", George continued bitterly. "You're admitting that Granger fancies you load's, (for years now) but you don't really fancy her back because - ' _ **for you**_ ' -its only friends with sexual benefits …eh? I have to agree with Percy here … he did try to warn us two years ago - that the-boy-who-lived uses people to get whatever he wants. I'm sorry Percy, we should have listened".

"Gin-Gin your well rid of him. The pair of them are the worst sort of wizarding scum there is … next to a Death Eater", George continued. "With our Ronnie ten times a more honorable man than Potter will be on his very best day. Ron and Lee have been keeping me from doing myself-in because of the twin I lost and that's a life debt to a person with honor which I can never hope to repay. So get out before I do something really nasty to you."

Percy gripped the banister tightly and said: "Don't … he's not worth going to prison for – and Ron wouldn't want that". Percy wanted very much to protest what had been said about him that morning, to say that George was wrong. But instead he stood there gob smacked for he would never have expected in a thousand years that his family would turn on Potter so abruptly, but that would be another lie. For Potter deserved far worst.

"I'll tell you …here and now - what's the biggest lie of all time … that Percy here the- ' _Death Eater collaborator_ ' -could ever be a hero like the Scarlet Pimpernel?" Harry snarled bitterly.

Percy inclined his head. The bones of his knuckles would poke out of the skin soon. He could think of nothing more to say to Potter and so he looked at the carpet on the stairs. He was a little surprised he hadn't broken the banister yet.

"Go back to your deceitful bint Potter, and never come here again," George threatened quietly. Knowing that his cause was lost, Harry turned on the spot and apperated away for good, never to darken the door of Burrow ever again.

After an awkward pause; Percy said finally. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go reestablish the British Ministry of Magic's international reputation; while sweet talking the world into lending England money".

"You haven't changed a bit Perce," Ginny called, as Percy went up the stairs. He was glad he was no longer facing her; she would not have to see him wince.

"Nah, that's where you're wrong, Gin-gin," said George thoughtfully. "He changed a lot."

That George of all people said that - - made Percy feel absurdly glad.

Percy was so happy he even sang as he showered, which would have made him fall into the bad graces of everyone once again had not Percy used his standard-shower silencing charm first. He knew he had a voice like a tone-deaf frog stuffed through a marble grinder and out of courtesy to his flat neighbors; he instinctively did the spell.

Then dressed carefully in his new pin-striped dress robes, tied a very neat cravat (the elder Crouch would have been so proud of the way he looked he might have remembered Percy's name), and dressed Teddy. Though it was nice to think he could go downstairs and use the fireplace to Floo out to the Ministry, Percy didn't want to chance-it and instead Apparated from his old bedroom directly to Oliver's flat.

8888

Percy reappeared in Oliver's lounge and predictably, his friend was still trying to get dressed. He had some difficulty with this because, Alicia was busy 'being sick' in his bathroom toilet and Percy was relatively sure Angelina had hidden Oliver's shoes out of spite.

"With Alicia Spinnet," Angelina spat out furious. "You shagged _Alica Spinnet_ … instead of ME!"

Oliver held his head in his hands. "Good God woman, I was too smashed to tell the difference! Besides: didn't you tell me just last night, around dinner time … when we were both still sober - - that you wanted to break things off between us?"

"And five minutes later, you're stuffing your hands in another-girls knickers … _Alica Spinnet_ _knickers,_ _No Less!_ Angelina shouted furiously.

"Hallo-all," Percy interjected rather hastily, stuffing a pacifier in Teddy's mouth as he entered the master bedroom. "Oliver, are you ready to go yet?"

Oliver looked at him blearily. "Percy, I don't have any shoes."

"I'm sure you do. Have you checked your closet? How about under the bed? Your shoes always end up under the bed."

" _And I see your bi-sexual now, eh Oliver - - slept with Percy Weasley_ , _did you_?" Angelina roared even louder. "You're in bed with Percy Weasley one night and you seduced me- _**AND**_ _-_ Alica …the next?"

"Why does everyone keep thinking that?" Percy asked, nettled. "You know, Oliver, I think Ginny's told everyone she knows that we're a couple."

"What good is being a Quidditch star and a world-renowned humanitarian dare-devil; if everyone thinks _you're a switch-hitter for your best mate_?"

"Probably not very much," Percy replied. "Sorry about all this Angelina. But ' _right-from-the-off_ ' …allow me to introduce this little fellow; his name is Teddy Lupin and I adopted him yesterday; since his parents are dead and his grandma's become a-bit of a nutter".

"Secondly; neither of us is gay, for I don't swing that way. The gay thingy was a ruse of the Scarlet Pimpernel used to fool Umbridge. And yes, yes, I can agree with you that Oliver is a royal git for taking advantage of you, when you were still emotionally vulnerable after Fred's death. But then Oliver has always been a-bit of a womanizer".

"I know that", Angelina snarled.

"Actually I think that you're not in a great position to complain about any possible tag-team bout with Alica. I recall being told by- ' _Nearly headless Nick'_ -that he use to watch you switch bunk-mates; Fred one night George the next".

"What if I did, I was younger then and I fancied them both", Angelina protested weakly as she calmed down.

"- - I'm not being judgmental here", Percy responded. "I just pointing out that you must have always known that Oliver could never be loyal to any woman… not for long anyway. I also know for a fact … that George fancied you way more than Fred ever did - - just saying".

"Are you trying to hook me up with George … so soon after Fred's death?" Angelina said, sounding surprised.

"He has a hole in his heart and you already have more than a foothold in the remaining half, you could easily make him whole again. Lee Jordon and Ron are doing their best for him right now, but Ron is up for a job with the Ministry that will take him out of the country for years to come. That would leave Lee propping up George alone". Percy said softly and then smiled; for he could see that Angelina was seriously considering his proposal. "Finally, George fancied you something fierce and he is a Weasley; gain his love and he with be faithful to you - forever".

"As for you Oliver", Percy said turning to his best friend. "I think you made your choice unconsciously last night even while drunk … because you knew that it was over with Ms. Johnson and that 'deep down' that Alicia's liked you for- _ages_. Oliver consider this - - how do you think Alicia felt; when she heard the rumor that you were a homosexual _and_ attracted to _me …_ instead of her?"

"Confused?" asked Oliver. "I'd be confused."

"Look, here's a pair of shoes," said Percy, pointing to behind the umbrella stand. His head was beginning to ache viciously again. "Oliver, it's a quarter after three. We really have to go. I still haven't figured out the wards Shacklebolt wants to put up in the Ministry, so if we just Apperate to the Ministry lobby - -"

"Oh no you don't, I want to hear more about George" Angelina said savagely, leaping at the shoes and forgetting all about her anger with Oliver.

" _Accio_ Oliver's shoes," Percy said wearily, pointing his wand at them. "Come off it Angelina. There is a time and a place for everything; but _not_ when I'm hung-over and going to be late for tea with the governmental heads of magical Europe. I promise we will sit down for a cuppa, better yet; I'll arrange for you have a chat with Ronnie, because he's the front man on the George recovery project; get his okay and you're golden."

Although Angelina was considerably mollified; she still did not see any reason for Oliver to leave with his nuts intact. At least as she hadn't finished yelling at him, but Oliver disappeared with a faint 'pop' as soon as he got his shoes on?

"I hate my life," Oliver said, once Percy has appeared next to him in the lobby. Teddy gurgled appreciatively. "Hate it. Where are we supposed to - -"

"Hold-on there," said a rather attractive Italian woman with a very charming smile. "You are in the papers! Oliver Wood… part-of the Pimpernel league …yes?"

Oliver suddenly seemed to be much happier with his life. "Why yes I am. Oliver Wood. You are?"

"Rosina. You are my hero!"

"Why yes, yes I am," said Oliver, grinning at her, hangover entirely forgotten (as well as the previous night with _Alica Spinnet)_. "In need of rescuing, are you Rosina?"

"See you in the conference room in fifteen minutes," Percy said over his shoulder. Shacklebolt was waving at him from across the lobby - and Percy instantly walked over.

"Hey kid, glad you made it. Ah, and with the adopted son in tow!"

"I couldn't leave Teddy two days in a row; not with my family", Percy said, a little shame-facedly. "Look, he is just as much a diplomat as I am in his pinstriped robes."

"And isn't he a _darling_!" exclaimed Hestia Jones, stopping next to them. "Cootche-coo!"

Teddy obligingly turned his hair violet for her.

"What is required of me, sir?" Percy asked, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

"I'm sure you attended functions like this before under Fudge. Sit through a bunch of long, dull speeches, smile for the cameras and then say a word or two for the wizarding media."

"Must I? - I've normally been the bloke behind the curtain, feeding the Minister, his speech notes," Percy said, rather dismayed. He felt rather shocked at his own discomfort. When had _he_ ever been reluctant to talk to reporters? Oh right, when he drank enough to aquire pounding headaches. _That_ was when he didn't want to talk to reporters.

"Sorry kid. Consider it practice for latter, when you're running things - We'll keep it short this time. Just say you did what you had to do, thank a few people- oh and make _sure_ you're particularly grateful to the French Ministry of Magic, since they ended up convincing Spain, Germany _and_ Italy about offering Muggleborn's political asylum. Don't forget the United States either."

"Why?" asked Hestia, looking up from Teddy. "They didn't do all that much."

"No, but they're the ones who will be principally bankrolling our rebuilding, so they'd be very upset if we neglected them," Percy replied thoughtfully. "And they did come in eventually, taking in refuges … you know – near the end. Finally their rebuilding loans are being offered at next to zero percent interest - -"

"You certainly have a flare for International diplomacy, remind me to let you handle- **all** -the foreign office stuff," said Shacklebolt, clapping Percy on the shoulder. "In administration and diplomacy you are invaluable to an ex Auror who was talked into reluctantly taking-on the role of Minister of Magic. Your better at this stuff than I am and we both know it - just try not to usurp me until I've saved up enough for a comfortable retirement."

"Oh, of course Sir." Percy rubbed his forehead again. "I'm not sure anyone would _want_ a twenty-five-year-old Minister for Magic."

"If they knew half of what you could do, kid? - -Trust me; they would in a heart-beat. But seriously Percy, you are going to have to get comfortable with public-speaking, I consider it my job to _**train-you-up**_ to replace me in the next ten years. And any successor to my job has to make speeches. No one's in the conference room just yet, so why don't you go in there and jot-down a few words?"

This seemed to be a very good idea to Percy and so he went in, conjured up a high-chair for Teddy and began mentally composing some sort of speech. He couldn't think of anything at first and stared around the conference room. He had been seated at a high trestle table at the front of the room. There were circular tables for each Ministry before it, with placards inscribed with the name of each country, as well as a long buffet to the side of the room, full of tea things. It was really rather nice.

' _My fellow witches and wizards, I thank you most sincerely…._ ' No, too formal.

' _I'm hung-over at the moment, so I'll keep this short-_ ' No, that was a definite end to all his good publicity.

' _I would like to thank everyone here, particularly Oliver Wood, who is not in fact my boyfriend, but is my best mate._ '

Teddy spat out his pacifier and began to wail.

" _Scourgify_ ," Percy said, pointing his wand at the pacifier. "Oh come-now Teddy, why are you upset? Oh! You must be hungry. I _knew_ mother would forget to feed you. Let's see what we can find…." Percy, balancing Teddy in one hand, managed to transfigure a rose from the floral display into a bottle. He filled the bottle with cream from the tea-service, which seemed to do the trick.

Suddenly a very pretty witch in lilac robes floated in with an armful of papers. She seemed very - -

"Penny!" Percy exclaimed, so surprised he nearly squeezed Teddy to hard.

After a moment, she turned and looked at him. "… Percy? Percy! No one else calls me Penny anymore, and I had to legally change my entire name to protect my distant relations back home, and I see … that you… have a child?" She checked the impulse to hug him and looked suddenly self-conscious.

Percy blushed. "He's not mine. I mean, biologically speaking. Well, actually he's mine now as I have adopted him … he's my son - ah… but I didn't expect to see you here. I mean it's- its beyond fantastic to see you at all … you look stunning by the way. I am sorry Miss Clearwater I forgot myself. How are you?"

Penelope laughed. "I go by - Audrey Marguerite Blakeney - now. Audrey was my christening name and Marguerite Blakeney because of my favorite book series, besides; I was never very fond of Penelope. As for me - - I am also doing _very_ well, my dearest _Scarlet Pimpernel_! I came back to England a fortnight after the final battle, with my parents. I found employment with the Department for International Magical Cooperation which was pretty much emptied during the Death Eater occupation - - and my new boss is actually a half-Giant named Robbie Coltrane and he recommended me to our new Minister who then appointed me as the temporary head of diplomatic relations with France".

"Congratulations", Percy said in reply.

"Speaking of diplomatic relations; Percy, I also heard that your brother is getting a dream posting with Ambassador Harris as well as your own promotion as first Deputy to the Minister of Magic himself. That makes you the overall-gaffer of my Department-head gaffer who runs Magical Cooperation; a bloke who temporarily directs the newly-reformed foreign office".

When Percy heard the chain-of-command put that way he felt his ears flush red as he set down Teddy's now-empty bottle. "Well, er… yes." In a very awkward backtrack, Percy held out Teddy. "This by the way is - Theodore Remus Lupin-Weasley; but everyone calls him Teddy for short. As I said earlier; I adopted him a few days ago as both of his parents were killed during the war."

"You… really adopted him?" Penny- Audrey asked, setting down her papers.

It suddenly dawned on Percy that he was a single father at twenty-one. He remembered, with a surge of overwhelming guilt, Eloise Midgen coming to see him in the hospital and erroneously predicting he would be the father of only girls. And now poor Martha, Eloise and finally; Fred, as well as everyone in his graduating-year aside from Oliver and Penny, was on the horrible long list of war dead with the weight of those names weighing heavily on him. Several generations lost, like in the Muggle Great War of 1914 to 18.

Just that morning in a special supplement to- _The Daily Prophet_ -was a reprinted list of K nown war dead with an even larger section dedicated to those missing… their fates unknown. Percy felt a surge of guilt for being alive when many 'better people' than him-self, were most-likely dead…. It was little wonder Percy forgot the question entirely. "Er. Sorry. Repeat that?"

"Did you adopt Teddy today?

"No it was a few days ago, actually. His parents were killed during the Battle for Hogwarts and his grandma is, er…."

Shockingly, P-Audrey kissed him on the cheek.

"Er."

"Can I hold him?" she asked excitedly, pushing back her long curls of brown hair. Percy handed Teddy over and it tore at him to see how happy and natural Audrey and Teddy looked together. "Oh, aren't you a darling? Hello Teddy. Has his hair always been aquamarine?"

"It was violet a few minutes ago. He's the son of a Metamorphmagus as you can see, so I'm going to have to learn more about Teddy's gift to help him control it", Percy said awkwardly as he fiddled with his cufflinks. "Er. Penny… I mean; Audrey… I don't think that I've ever really thanked you."

"For what?" she asked offhandedly, as she focused on a bouncing Teddy. "Oh, aren't you just adorable?"

"Well, for all your help. If you hadn't… er… knocked some sense into me, I'd still be working for the Ministry and cringing my way through each day. Oh, and for loaning me your books." He fiddled with his cufflinks. "It was almost like having you here. Well, almost. I… kept your flat … paid the rent because cause … I missed you."

She looked up and beamed at him. "Percy, I already know about my flat, but they didn't tell me who paid for everything. I-I …never turned off the radio, just in case they said something about you."

Percy felt himself blush again.

"Audrey!"

Percy turned. God-dammit, it was the handsome Frenchmen from the visions.

"Luc-Esprit!" Audrey lit up, switching to French. "What are you doing in London?"

"Silly!" Luc-Esprit exclaimed, a smile similarly lighting up his goddamn handsome face … a - - **Git**. "I came to see you, of course. Introduce me to your friend, there."

Percy tried to make him-self invisible by busily rearranging the tea-service.

"This is Teddy Lupin-Weasley and this is his adopted father, Percy." Audrey's hand was very soft on his shoulder. "Percy, this is Luc-Esprit. His mother was one of the ones that found me a job during the war."

"Allo," said Luc-Esprit beaming. "Eet ees a pleasure to meet ze Scarlet Pimpernel. After-u brought down ze Voldemort, ze French Death Eater movement collapsed, with ze brigands flee or tur-ning state-evidence against eech other".

Percy turned and bowed formally, so he would not have to take the much handsomer-than Percy could ever hope to be; Luc-Esprit's hand. Percy instinctively knew that this was the boyfriend that Oliver had casually mentioned. He also knew that this charming and heavily-accented English speaking Frenchmen would be-goddamn-bloody-irresistible to a gorgeous witch like Audrey. "Bonjour …er… Monsieur Luc-Esprit."

Luc-Esprit then solemnly shook hands with Teddy. Percy furiously distributed, with a flick of his wand …the copies of the memos Audrey had brought in; to each table. He had never before understood the traditional hatred between France and England…but oh sweet Merlin on a bike - - did he understand it now. He was quite tempted to cause an international incident if need be. But then Percy abruptly remembered that this beautiful witch had broken things off with him for the solid reason and then moved on to Oliver before finding 'whatever' she had with Luc-Esprit.

Percy forced himself to remain calm because he had lost Audrey to 'other men' long ago - - It was his failings as a man … being a stuff-shirted Prat, and a royal Git for years beyond counting that had caused his heartache … not this ruddy frog.

"Ah, Monsieur le Pimpernel!" exclaimed Madame Isabelle Delacour, sweeping into the dining room. She radiated Veela sensuality in waves that Percy could physically feel and she looked magnificent in her 'low-cut', bright red robes and she kissed him in greeting so enthusiastically, that poor Percy couldn't speak for several minutes afterwards. "Jean-Claude, get a picture!" she said a moment later to her personal photographer.

Percy was too dazed to smile, but that did not seem to matter much. Everyone who steamed into the room after Madame Delacour, seemed overwhelmingly glad to see him and crowed around with delight while Percy stammered out over and over: 'Thank you, you are too kind, without your help Voldemort would have won' in any and all languages he could think of.

Never having been much of a multilingual before his first trip to France, he had obtained a magically created super-quick course in European languages from the archives. A quick refresher for thirty minutes in his office managed to turn French smoothly into Italian which in turn became some form of grater Russian - which transfigured into Hungarian without sounding too Mermish and then back to passable French. Percy managed all this without embarrassing himself, which pleased Kingsley tremendously. His years under Minister Fudge and his own work in magical cooperation under the elder Crotch was now paying off.

Percy had originally taken to his flat the (top-drawer) executive level only (ultra-secret), quick learn… _Multi_ - _Language Spell_ – on the same day he had been told to go to France for the Thicknesse government … with two long-term goals in mind; **one** ) learning a few languages to converse with foreign governments during the war, as well as **two** ) loaning it to Ron (as part of his plans for his youngest brother for after the war) for he had correctly predicted that Granger would dump Ron cold and hard the moment Potter no longer needed him.

Percy also hoped that Ron would read the note he had given to his house-elf to deliver to his brother along with the spell. Percy hoped that Ron would use the- _Language Spell_ -long enough to become fully fluent in Slavic, Greek and Italian. These languages would greatly help him become a great Ambassador for England.

Percy was also very pleased to hear indirectly (from Audrey) that Ron had taken the posting with Ambassador Harris with only thing diminishing his joy in this achievement being Oliver showing up in the dining-hall … semi-drunk once again with one arm around the Italian girl waist… to smashed to be more than barely understood in his native English.

He couldn't help feeling overwhelmed. He could barely enjoy the scone set before him, as he had, in his effort to please the German minister, who had poured him a cup of tea, burned his tongue on the too-hot Darjeeling. Teddy was passed around, to the adoration of the witches in particular and Percy was always looking around anxiously to try and find him again. A half-hour passed in such a strange, disjointed fashion, in such a babble of languages Percy was surprised when Kingsley Shacklebolt announced in clear, comprehensible English that Percy Weasley, a man who needed no introduction, had a few words to say.

Nonetheless, Shacklebolt gave Percy a long, almost embarrassing introduction and turned the most commonplace events in Percy's career into examples of heroism. It baffled and pleased Percy at the same time. He could see nothing heroic in adopting Teddy (though Shacklebolt obviously did), or in rushing to the Battle of Hogwarts (he ought to have gotten there sooner), or in being the Scarlet Pimpernel (which anyone would have done in his position, although he was very pleased at how well he had pulled it off). Percy was most baffled by the mention of Teddy, however; Percy adopted him simply out of a desire to love and be loved in return. He didn't see anything particularly noble in that. Shacklebolt lauded Percy's sense of humor (Percy wasn't aware he had one), his sense of courage, his bravery, his incredible competence-

By the time Shacklebolt had finished a long list of compliments, Percy's ears were the ' _Weasley trademark'_ bright red and he himself was tongue-tied. He stood up, cleared his throat and said, "Ah, er."

This was not a very good beginning to any kind of speech, and an even worse one to a speech he had yet to write.

"Ah, I… I really don't deserve such praise. I was… I made … a series of stupid choices when I was younger, and ended-up picking my job **over** everything else. My stupidity; in fact, loss me the love of a totally fabulous girl; that I never really deserved … apparently, as she moved on to other men after me… better men, I suppose. Weasley's of both genders have a habit of falling in love with unattainable life mates. But you may be surprised to learn how the quest for the unattainable - can become a teachable moment".

"When the Death Eaters took over the British Ministry, I was at that point my life when I was literally falling to pieces; I had been disowned by my family who hated me, so I don't think I can be entirely blamed if … I made a number of bad choices that landed me working for some truly horrible people".

"Confronting my unattainable lost love again truly opened my eyes to the evil of my own government and I hope everything I've done since that wake-up call … has in some small-way atoned for my many mistakes. It isn't much, but I offer you all the Scarlet Pimpernel - and I thank you all very sincerely, because without all of you, I would never have been able to save a single life. You took in my people, fed them, gave them comfort and shelter. Without you - I would have remained the old Percy Weasley, an all but invisible junior assistant in a corrupt bureaucracy".

"So- once again thank you very much. Especially to Oliver Wood and to the French Ministry and, er… to Spain, Italy, Germany, the United States… and everyone else I might have missed", Percy glanced around at the placards on the tables, avoiding looking at Penelope, who sat so extra-close to Luc-Esprit, that Percy could all but see the sparks flying between them - - as he read off all the names of the various countries.

"Thank you for helping the people of England to rebuild their lives. The job of the Scarlet Pimpernel is obviously ended, and he didn't really do anything all that much. If it hadn't been me I'm sure that someone else would have taken up the Mantle of the Pimpernel to help unify everyone who would have done their bit and help change the magical world for the better".

Percy then dropped back into his seat and stared miserably at his plate as silence gripped the room. The next moment everyone started to loudly applaud.

The Deputy Minister for Spain then took pity on Percy embarrassment and asked him politely if he had written the regulations on cauldron bottom thickness. Percy replied that he had, and spent a much more satisfactory five minutes discussing the necessity of international regulations and periodically renegotiating trade agreements. After that, everyone seemed to have praised his alter ego quite enough and allowed Percy to go back to being overlooked Percy.

It was with incredible relief, however, that he noticed Teddy had begun softly bawling. He grabbed the screaming infant, who was changing the shape of his nose with alarming rapidity, and raced out of the room for an emergency diaper change. Percy spent the next twenty minutes hiding in the bathroom, alternately beating his head against a wall and entertaining Teddy.

When he realized he had to face the music once again, Percy reemerged and was polite to all the heads of state that seemed very happy to think that they represented countries that would have done the right, humanitarian thing even without Percy to urge them onto it. Percy was always painfully aware of Audrey as she moved through the room 'arm in arm' with Luc-Esprit who clung to her arm like a shawl.

"I'm starting to feel sorry for Harry Potter, he'll be ignored again in no time unable to match the people skills of my best buddy", slurred Oliver, though he looked at the pretty Italian witch on his arm with remarkable contentment.

"Mm," said Percy.

Oliver glanced at him. "Perce, what's the matter? You look like Voldemort killed your puppy and then ate it … right in front of you."

"Thank you for that graphic description, Oliver."

"Anytime",

"I just… who am I, without the Scarlet Pimpernel?" Percy asked sounding a-tad depressed.

"Percy Weasley," Oliver said without hesitation, giving him a funny look. "You don't deal well with hangovers, do you, Perce?"

"Not really, no," Percy replied miserably. "And… I am sorry to have to say this, Oliver, but I need to tell someone, before I burst… do you see the witch in the lilac robes - the one on the arm of that Frenchmen? I'm madly in love with your ex-girlfriend Penelope."

Oliver turned and looked at Miss Clearwater for a long moment as if seeing her for the first time. Then he smiled over his shoulder at Percy. "That witch is not the Penelope I remember. the girl I knew was a flower that hadn't bloomed yet … whereas that woman has flowered to the point of being unrecognizable to me … besides; my dance card is full for tonight", Oliver said while looking down at Rosina. "But don't be discouraged, you're the ruddy Scarlet Pimpernel, aren't you? Well then, go do something about it."

"Not anymore," said Percy. "I'm just Percy Weasley again, the bloke she dumped for greener pastures …in France apparently".

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder. "Oh, I dunno. You're also my best mate? One of the most sodding brilliant and barmy burrocrats I've ever met? Ruddy Deputy Minister of Magic, you are … with a huge pay bucket to play with. Rich enough certainly; to afford a ten room - four bedroom, London townhouse with a decent sized play-yard in the back for Teddy?" Oliver said thoughtfully before slowly looking around. "A bloke with that kind of dosh can get any bird he wants. And if my old flame Penelope is that bird … I think you ought to say something to her, real soon. Maybe all that time in France made her oblivious to the massive hint you dropped in your inspiring little speech."

Percy thought it over for a moment before he bolted from the room.

"Hey, kid, slow down," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, stopping him midway down the hall. "What's the rush?"

"I need, er… the French delegation… didn't… thank them enough…."

"Kid, you did more than enough today. I don't think they'll hold it against us."

Percy looked despairingly into the lobby. But she was nowhere to be seen. He had been so close!

Hestia Jones smiled at him. "Are you feeling alright? You look a little overwhelmed."

"I suppose I am," said Percy, looking down the hall.

"I wouldn't blame you," replied Shacklebolt. "I hate to ask you, but there's … "

"…Excuse me, Minister," Percy interrupted, earning himself a puzzled look from both Kingsley Shacklebolt and his dinner companion Hestia Jones. "I need a- a personal…."

"A personal day?" Hestia supplied eagerly. "Here, let me take care of Teddy. I'd love a chance to be a Mum for a day. Who's a good boy now, hunh?"

Percy handed over the baby, who gurgled happily and smiled at Hestia. "Er, no," Percy replied, "more like a quarter of an hour. Is that permissible, sir?"

"What for?" Kingsley asked.

Percy tore his eyes away from searching for Audrey. "Well sir, I should like to take a quarter of an hour to try to convince my ex-girlfriend to take me back; because I fully realize that I was a fool to let her go. And if as expected; she turns me down, then I'll still have enough time for a small nervous breakdown in my office upstairs. I can be very precise at times like these, sir. I really shall only need about five minutes to get rejected."

Kingsley grinned. "For you, I'll make it a full hour... for the breakdown or a reconnection snogfest; because I've recently learned not to underestimate your gift to get things done to your satisfaction. You did after all; single-handedly dismantle the entire security system of intensely complicated curses placed over the Ministry in between telling Teddy Lupin a bedtime story. You can do anything you set your mind to. For you have style, kid."

"ThankyouverymuchMinister," Percy blurted out before speeding way and scampering through the crowd while shouting. "Penny! Oi, wait!, don't leave yet, please!"

Very soon Percy had the attention of most of the people in the Atrium but not, alas, not Audrey's.

"Penny, I mean Audrey …please! I really do need to talk to you privately and it is a matter of some imp- oh, er, hallo again …!" Percy said as all of a sudden she seemed to appear right in front of him.

Audrey turned and Percy very suddenly realized that Luc-Esprit stood right beside her, glaring hard at Percy.

"Er, Audrey," Percy said, a little stiffly. "I, er… could I have a private word."

"I'm in a bit of a hurry," she replied, pushing her hair out of her face. "Can it wait?"

"No, not rea… "

…She turned away only half-listening. "…I really am sorry, Percy, but-"

"I was a fool!" Percy roared, since that declaration had worked very well in the past. "I was a pompous prat who- who became so blinded by his own ambition he failed to see that it had led him down paths he shouldn't have followed!"

Audrey slowly turned to face him and Percy could tell by her expression that she really was starting to _listen_ to him again, and he felt so encouraged he rambled on.

"Look, please hear me out and please don't stop me because if I do stop I won't be able to start again and I really need to say this. Audrey, I was a complete and utter Git for what I've done during my Ministry career … but I realize it now and I'm truly sorry. I- I was beyond horrible to you and I do apologize. Worst of all, I was a damn fool to work so hard that it drove you away, and an ever greater fool not to tell you that- that…

"…er, Audrey, truth-is. - - I've been falling in love with you since I was fifteen and you know I'm rubbish at Valentines and poetry and expressing feelings and all that rot, because a dear friend told me so before she died. People are actually surprised that I EVER had a girlfriend … even once. However seeing you again at Azkaban made me want to be better man than I ever thought I could be. The only reason I did 'turn back' to what I knew was right, though it was dangerous and difficult and could have possibly lead to my death, was because the very thought of you losing your life due to a Death Eater genocide against all the innocent Muggleborn's - - would have made my life meaningless".

"You- you bring out the best in me, Audrey, even though no one but you ever believed it possible - - not even me. And I was such a damn fool never to tell you, and an even worse fool never to tell you just how much you mean to me and how much I care for you and I was the biggest git in the world not to tell you that the morning of the day you broke up with me.

You-see, I'd gone out and bought a ring- and, and that's what I used my entire bonus for, when I got the promotion to Junior Assistant to the first undersecretary to Minster Fudge. - - I know that it'll be a really long time before you can trust me enough for me to go and get that ring out of my vault at Gringotts; but I love you madly and please take me back and please don't leave to go back to France embassy along with Luc Esprit the handsome Frenchman, because I really do- _**love you**_ -more than anything else in my life, even Teddy and my job. - - So please, take me back."

During this entire diatribe …this silly little romantic spiel/confession, somehow everyone had fallen very quiet (possibly because Percy was still shouting a bit) and Percy had, in the midst of fiddling with his cuff links, lost both of them. Audrey stood and looked at him with the same grave, calm, interested expression that Percy so loved and which meant she was honestly, truly listening.

"I will, but only if you forgive me as well?" Percy asked, a little pathetically before he finally had the courage to look up into her eyes.

He was startled to acknowledge tears sliding down Audrey's cheeks before she ran over and flung herself into his arms. "Oh _Percy_!" - - And suddenly she was kissing him and everything was suddenly right and wonderful and Percy remembered again how fantastic snogging could be. How had he ever forgotten how much feeling, how much pleasure came from the relatively bizarre way people pressed their lips together? And there was such an unexpected and almost explosive joy in clinging to someone, in feeling their hands in your hair or around your neck or on the sides of your face and being close enough to feel their tears run down your cheek as if they were your own. A few people wolf-whistled and some idiot attempted to start a round of clapping, forcing Percy to give Audrey one last kiss before lifting his head up and looked around with mock severity.

Audrey pulled back breathlessly. "I was really just going to get a new roll of film for Jean-Claude's camera, so he could take a group photo before everyone Flooed back to their hotel in five minutes. This is only Friday evening, remember? The conference goes on all weekend. I've moved back to England permanently, I wasn't going back to our embassy in France, I don't live there anymore."

"Oh," Percy said, looking down at her and feeling incredibly stupid. With a return to his usual gravitas, Percy replied, very gravely, "Well rest assured that the breadth and depth of my devotion does not change based upon a more local destination."

"And you _mean_ it to, don't you?"

"Er, I would rather you did not have doubts on the subject Audrey. It is rather important to me."

"Oh I have missed you!" Audrey cried, kissing him again and causing Percy to quite ignore whoever it was trying to start the clapping up again.

"I love you," Percy said simply.

"And I love you," Audrey replied, kissing him again. "My very own, elusive Pimpernel."

"I'm not that elusive," Percy replied, angling for another kiss.

"No," Audrey said, with a brilliant smile. "But you are my own, brave Sir Percy and I love you for it."

And Percy was wonderfully, incandescently happy. For there was everything perfectly in place, every detail as he had planned and wished for, with the exception of one that he had never really understood until now, never really planned for, but always secretly wished for after reading it in the book-

He certainly wasn't a knight in shining armor or anything like that. He was Percy Weasley, and he was the Scarlet Pimpernel.

And, for the moment, it was possible to be both at once.

And, better than being either, he was _loved_.

And he was happy.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Billybob's Epilog: (1st September 2017) - Nineteen years after the second Voldemort uprising/civil-war (the alternate universe to established cannon) which follows the 'butterfly rule' of time travel. In which any change in the original historical timeline affects future events.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Surrounded by a half-dozen Aurors; Minister-elect, Percy Weasley and his beloved wife Audrey had come to see their two daughters off to Hogwarts for Molly's sixth year and Lucy's fifth year. The two girls were eager to join-up with their friends and after saying their good-byes; the two Ravenclaw's were- _straining at the bit_ \- to get away from their parents. After a final awkward hug by their dad, the two girls faded into the crowd of Kings cross train station, platform 'nine and three-quarters'. Scanning the crowd to see if he knew anyone there - Percy first caught sight of his adopted son Teddy (age 19) who was saying his tear-filled goodbyes to his girlfriend and most likely future Bride: Victoria Weasley (age 17). This was his Brother Bill's oldest girl, born on the first Anniversary of the- _Battle for Hogwarts_ and although having already graduated, Teddy was still deeply-involved romantically with Victoria, a quarter-Veela.

Catching his brother's eye; Bill walked-over … hand in hand with Fleur, openly displaying their affection for one another - like a couple of teenagers. - And that kind-of romantic openness, despite his best efforts with Audrey; Percy could only envy. Trailing behind their parents were Bill's youngest children Dominque (age 15) and Louis (age 12) who were dragging their feet in anticipation of joining their own school chums.

"Hallo, Minister". Bill said grinning fondly

"Hallo Bill, Bonjour Fleur; letting the two have a moment alone…eh?"

"Teddy won't see her again until the Christmas holidays; for as Head Girl she can't get away from her duties on Hogsmeade weekends", Bill explained. "Has he told you yet that he will be spending Christmas day with us at- _**Shell Cottage**_?"

"No, he hasn't", Percy said

"He told me dearest", Audrey interjected softly.

"Do you see Bill, how dependent I am on my sweet wife to make my domestic life bearable?" Percy said while looking down at Audrey with an expression of pure love.

"Have you seen any of our other siblings today?" Bill said off-handedly …while Fleur released her two youngest offspring to join their friends on the train.

"Ginny doesn't intend to use the Hogwarts express when the time comes, she and Neville have a cottage just outside of Hogsmeade since … well, forever", Bill explained. – "It's not all that surprising that our little-sister agrees with her husband; Professor Longbottom about putting her twin sons though a tedious train ride from London when they live just down the lane from the front gates".

"Those two are natural pranksters" Audrey interjected as a matter of fact.

"Ginny loved to Prank, so it's not unexpected really". Bill said. "You didn't prank anyone did you Perce?"

"Getting into a prank-war with any of my siblings was beyond stupid, you-lot would have ganged-up on me"

"True enough", Bill replied with a small smile which Percy returned for Percy had come to appreciate Bill's total honestly with him.

"I hear you're recalling Ron from Roma" - Bill asked, while Fleur and Audrey chatted off to one side - as best friends often do.

"Actually, no"; Percy replied. "It was Kingsley's last act before he stepped down. I agree with him one hundred percent when it comes to the creation of a separate Department to handle diplomatic relations with other magical governments as well as the _-_ _ **International Confederation of Wizards.**_ _–_ In fact my wife has been the chief advocate for that idea in the Wizengamot for years".

"Yes I know," Bill said softly chuckling. "Look Perce, I'm not objecting to bringing Ronnie home, as his nippers will be of- ' _Hogwarts age_ ' -next year and Mum will have a coronary if Ron's rug-rats spend their- _firstie Year_ -at any school other than Hogwarts. Secondly; I work at Gringotts and I know a-lot about world financial affairs. - Money makes the world turn and I've heard that our Ronnie is very well regarded by almost all goblins in Europe and better yet; when the current- ' _Supreme Mugwump'_ -of the I.C.W. steps down. - - I have heard repeated rumors that the goblins will be pushing-hard the governments where there banks are located to name our Ronnie as - ' _Supreme Mugwump'_ -.

"Can you think of anyone who would do the job better?" Percy replied. "The once again fully retired: Ambassador Richard Harris has called Ron his best student … his prodigy with an exceptional talent at persuasion. I've done all I could to subtly advance his career, as have you - - and even you must admit Ron has stepped up to every challenge the Ministry has thrown at him".

"Ronnie's pushed hard to have the goblins treated with respect around the globe and that has reaped amazing benefits for both sides. Basically; I've been reliably informed that's he's done so well because he doesn't suffer from the craving that most diplomats endure from seeking all the credit for getting a task done", Bill explained. "That's why the goblins like him, for Ronnie is firmly in their corner and doesn't suffer from an overinflated political ego. He also doesn't talk down to them like most wizards do. They like you too for the same reason Perce. The relations between Goblin and Wizards have never been better".

"I've tried" Percy said modestly.

"You only mucked-up once in all these years and that was in naming Potter chief Auror", Bill complained

"He's far safer behind a desk than on the street", Percy explained. "Two of his partners were killed in the line of duty while keeping that rash fool out of danger. Honestly I don't like him anymore than you do - - but he's too famous to sack for incompetence and too much of an impulsive-nutter to be trusted with street crime. So I 'promoted him' into a position where he can cause the least harm".

"And Granger?" - Bill pressed.

"I had nothing to do with that", Percy protested strongly. "Headmistress McGonagall was the one that hired Granger to be Professor of Ancient Runes after she failed as a magical-barrister."

"Granger I am reliably informed - - doesn't believe in 'networking' and that's how the legal profession works. Plea-bargaining and reciprocal favors win cases more often than- **strictly** -following the letter of the law. Besides, I've also heard, that girl loves to give lectures, so a Professor's-gig would be a great fit for an enthusiastic feminist and anti-male spinster", Bill growled.

"Come-on Bill, She is only 38; she can still find a man, and settle down", Audrey interjected softly.

"Audrey is right Bill. Just because 'George married Angelina' and 'Ron married Olivia' around age thirty, doesn't mean Granger is too old to have children", Percy pointed out.

"She still might get married dearest", Audrey countered – "but Fleur and I agree that Granger is not the type to embrace motherhood over her career. Your brother Ron now has Rose (age 10) and Hugo (age 9) - and George has Fred (age 9) and Roxanne (age 8). Both of your brothers are happily married to women they obviously adore… as we have all seen during the numerous Family gatherings at the Burrow. They are attentive and supportive of their wives ambitions and Ron in particular; wasn't at all shy about doing his turn at changing nappies when his kids were a-lot younger – and without being asked first… I might add. For the longest time - I thought I got the only 'hands-on' husband out of Molly's brood, but Ron proved me wrong. Bill and George I believe, are more traditionist when it comes to rising children… meaning; its women's work".

"Yes; that's true enough", Bill admitted without hesitation and this candor resulted in his wife smacking him in the arm. "Beel" she said outraged.

"It's the truth Honey. Percy here is the rare Weasley exception in parenting skills as is Ronnie. You two adore nippers of all ages. George and I are the more traditional kind of dad. And speaking of Georgie, do I spy him and Angelina visiting with Lee Jordon and Katie Bell as they send their nippers off to be- ' _ **Firsties**_ '. Anyroad; my point is, Percy here and Ronnie (still in Roma until November); will always be far better fathers than I will ever hope to be. But in my own defense, I have a wonderful wife who has been from day-one a super-mom to my brood, so my help wasn't needed all that often. When required I stepped in and helped, but how often was that my darling?" Bill asked Fleur.

"I prefer to do-it myself, dez ees true."

"Change of subject time", Audrey said smoothly. "About November, Has Ron approached anyone about finding him a place to live? I spoke to Olivia; the former Ms. Hallinan; on the floo yesterday and she and Ron are looking for a Townhouse near Percy and me. We really should get cracking if we expect to find something for them. Olivia said she wanted three or four bedrooms two and a half baths".

"there is nothing over by us", Bill interjected.

"Of course not, you're on the coast and Ron and Olivia want to stay in greater London. Percy and I have good neighborhood, although it's in a area of all Muggle's neighbors…" Audrey began with Fleur quickly joining into the discussion as they talked home-details that no male with a pulse (including Percy naturally) took any interest in. Bill's disinterest was demonstrated when he wandered over to chat with George and Angelina walking right passed Potter who had put himself in charge of Hogwarts Express security. That neither Bill nor Potter acknowledged each other's existence on any level - spoke volumes of the way things were these days. Potter and Granger had dated each other- 'on and off' -for about five years, but like Harry had predicted back at the Burrow, his relationship with Hermione never went anywhere remotely serious.

Granger after several years of first dates which never led to a second one – was now a full-professor and most likely going to end up a spinster living with her cat. - Book smart brilliant without a doubt, but totally lacking in social skills with her intellectual superiority generating an abrasive manner which tended to put-off and generally 'repel' age-peers of the male gender- ( _like a foul smelling body odor_ ). The ' _Golden Duo_ ' as they were now called; were still somewhat famous, or at least Potter was, but it is sad to see a bloke struggling with the fact that the high-point of his entire life had most likely already happened … when he was a boy of seventeen.

It was ironic really; Ron's star was still ascending whereas the girl who dumped him for the 'Boy-who-lived' was rapidly fading into the obscurity of- teaching runes -to young minds full of mush. - - Potter on the other hand (still suffering from depression and frequent mood swings) had no better luck than Granger, with long term romantic relationships... preferring instead to engage in a series of one night stands with beautiful and emotionally-shallow fame groupies. Career wise Harry had climbed as far as he would ever go - - without embracing politics, which ran counter to his often repeated desire for a private-life. Percy watched Potter casually brush away yet another autograph seekers and felt a stab of pity for the emotionally damaged Hero. Harry had not asked for any of this and how he had reacted to what fate had done to him spoke volumes about his character.

As it turned out, Destiny; had been far kinder to Potter's betrayed sidekick, who had- 'found himself' -in Eastern Europe, as well as love in the arms of a woman who openly adored him. In fact; with all things considered, all the Weasley's had bounced back remarkably well after the war. Percy's Mother still had her bad days; but found great comfort in her grandchildren. Ginny and Neville loved each other so much it was hard on the eyes. Their twin sons were only five and were so 'full of life' it was infectious. For Percy himself; at the pinnacle of power all his dreams already having come true, Audrey and his children where more important than his job… which is how it should be and he was content. Bill, George and Ron had all sired sons; so the Weasley name would continue. Teddy had enjoyed a great childhood with his adoptive parents and sisters. And most important of all; Percy was still falling more in love with his Hogwarts girlfriend/wife every day.

What more could the Scarlet Pimpernel ask.

8888

The curtain closes and then reopens as the actors take their final bows before the applauding audiences

I hope you liked my remake.

 **PS: look up Olivia Hallinan she is a real person/actor**

The end.


End file.
